Kill Bill: Prequel Volume 2
by Bloody Satisfaction
Summary: Have you ever wondered how the relationships in Kill Bill Vol1&2 became to be? How did it all start? This story is an indepth look, for TRUE KB fans. This is the SECOND volume of a twopart prequel. UPDATE: Ch28 228
1. Authors Notes&Bob and His Fax Machine

Hi there! My name is Jess and I'm an avid Kill Bill fan. A few months ago a friend and I had the urge to create a story based on Kill Bill. We were always curious about what happened before the two volumes. How did Bill and Beatrix end up lovers? What's the deal between O-Ren and Beatrix as well as all the other Vipers? This is basically a prequel to what we think may have happened before the massacre at Two Pines. The story begins a year after Beatrix's agonizing three years with Pai Mei and takes place a year and a half before Two Pines.

Be aware this is the **SECOND** volume to our **TWO PART STORY**. The other **Prequel Kill Bill** story can be found under: **Kill Bill: Prequel Volume 1**

**I STRONGLY RECOMMEND READING the FIRST volume before you read the second**. This is the **SECOND** volume. Which means, if you start reading from here you are going to be really confused.

Those that have read the first volume: This volume takes off right where we left off. No synopsis, flash back, nothing. It jumps right on in.

Now on to your other basics.

This story is very much for those **TRUE Kill Bill Fans.** The story is very in depth and you really need to be willing to take in this story and really read it. It's long.

Most of the information in this story is gotten from our own knowledge of the volumes and the original script. All of the characters from Kill Bill Volumes 1 and 2 belong to Q&U. Only non-player-characters belong to me and my friend. All of the story plots are our own ideas based on information.

I hope you enjoy our interesting perspective on pre-Kill Bill. We have worked really hard and this story has been on going for quite awhile. Thus being that there is a ton of chapters. I will be adding a chapter each day or so, this depends on the feedback we receive. Feedback is loved and a must! Also are ideas/opinions. I am sorry if there are some grammar and spelling mistakes. I've tried my best to revise it but there are always things that can't be caught. I'm trying.

This fic is rated **R** for drug references, gore, sexual content, and basically everything that gave Volumes 1 & 2 an R rating.

Well, now that we have almost everything settled you can proceed to the continuation of Kill Bill: Prequel Volume 2

**Jess & Mel**

I decided to combine the first chapter into the Author's notes so the Chapter numbers don't get screwed up again. So continue going down for the next chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 33:** _Bob and His Fax Machine_

"Bob" as he was so discreetly called ran an organization on the East Coast called the CPA...or the Certified Private Assassins. As "West Coast" as the Viper's where, the CPA was equally "East Coast" But beyond that the organizations were rather similar, being made up of a handful of members and ran by one man with a monosyllable "B" name. Each member was a highly trained assassin just like the DiVA's were. Although, the CPA's assassins tended to be trained in more military style martial arts tactics and less in kung fu and sword styles. Which was another positive thing about the "assassin trade program", it served to give each organization the taste of a little more variety.

The CPA's headquarters were in upper state New York. Just like Bill, Bob had chosen a fairly discreet location that was close enough to civilization to make it practical.

The building was a large brick complex that looked like it had been there since the turn of the century. It was surrounded by a few acres of lush green forest. The inside was far from ancient, having been updated in an extremely sophisticated corporate styling...wood paneling, glass doors, shiny black tables...very streamlined. There were little exotic decorations...but what there was, was very expensive looking. The most amusing piece of decor was one of those typical motivational posters, but it had obviously been made custom for the CPA...as it showed a photo of a man, who had a gun to another man's head and read at the bottom ASSASSINATION : Your Right As A Privileged Human Being. Play God And Love It. Where there wasn't hardwood flooring, there were large areas of fine grey carpeting. Sophisticated electronics were scattered about among the puritan objects.

As it turned out nobody lived here but Bob. But much like Bill he always had spare room for visitors and willingly gave O-Ren and Beatrix incredibly nice rooms to stay in. They both looked out onto the huge forested backyard, which featured a large pond that was inhabited by a number of beautiful white geese.

Bob himself was a middle aged man...maybe fifty. He was of middle height and in very trim shape. He had a head of close cropped salt and pepper grey hair, a high forehead and a pair of piercing blue eyes in the middle of a lean clean shaven face. He wasn't bad looking for his age...but he possessed such an aloof and cold manner it was hard to think he even thought about anything but killing and money anyways. He dressed impeccably well. Armani suits, the Rolex, Italian leather shoes, cufflinks, tie pin...the whole GQ look. From what Beatrix and O-Ren had seen, he appeared to own nothing else but these things. He ran the CPA with an iron fist. Like any man who had to do what he did, he was extremely dominant, to the point and wry. A dry sense of humor lurked underneath the steely demeanor, but it rarely came out. Obviously, to him...what he did was as much as a business as running a large corporation and he expected everyone who worked for him to act the same way. He was the kind of man you didn't cross, didn't fuck over, and didn't contradict. There were similarities to Bill, sure...but the men were obviously very different as well.

O-Ren and Beatrix had spent the first few days getting acquainted with the place. Bob had one of his assistants, a young man named, James show the two women around a bit. Then on their third day, they were introduced to one of Bob's assassins. Her name was Clarice and she looked almost like a Sharon Stone double. Tall, but not quite as tall as Beatrix, with long legs...a mane of platinum blonde wavy hair and a pair of icy cool eyes. She was extremely good looking, but cold as a December morning in Alaska. She was dressed as if going to a board meeting, in a light grey suit and skirt set, nylons and high heels. "Ladies," she said in an extremely confident voice, "Extremely pleased to meet you," she, like Bob, was all business, and she shook both of their hands as if they had just made a one million dollar acquisition.

During those three days O-Ren and Beatrix got along very, very well. This was only to the reason that they were both depressed and when one was depressed it was nice to have someone to be depressed with. Misery loves company. They were able to support one another in their own twisted ways. The place was nice, the rooms were nice, and Bob wasn't nice. He was a bastard just like Bill was. O-Ren and Beatrix enjoyed themselves at night when they compared the two men and laughed. But, of course there was no man like Bill. They could equally agree on that whether their opinions on why he was 'the man' differed greatly.

By the third day the two killers came to terms with their new life and that they'd have to suck it up and deal with it. Of course, they both dealt with it in their own manners. O-Ren turned into a shy Chinese school girl. She kept quiet, spoke only when spoken to, and kept a docile demeanor. Beatrix on the other hand went full out smart ass. This attempt only worked for a few hours when Bob threatened her and she stopped. So, she turned to polite and blonde, for the moment.

Now the two killers stood there, their hands being shaken by a woman who worked and was devoted to Bob. Already they wouldn't get along. "Pleased to meet you as well," O-Ren spoke softly and quickly took back her hand. Her features were firm set. The half breed despised being thought of as a million dollar acquisition. Beatrix just gave a tilted nod to the other blonde with a forced smile of greeting.

"Excellent," Clarice smiled a broad white smile, diamond jewelry glistening off the track lighting "Then, let's going now shall we?" She led the two assassins through the house down the steps into the parking lot, where a silver BMW sat. She gestured for the two women to get in the back, since apparently the passenger seat was taken up a large man in a black suit. Once they were all seated inside Clarice, gestured to the man, "This is Chris. He's my assistant." The large man nodded at the two women and went back to staring blandly out the side window. Apparently everybody in the CPA had an assistant.

Clarice started up the car, "We're going into the city, there's a small job that Bob wants you two to do. You could call it a test." They drove in silence the rest of the way. Not even a radio to break the silence. Everybody in the CPA thus far seemed something of an exclusive purist. Bill would have hated it.

It took awhile to get into the city and even longer to find reclusive parking. Finally, Clarice left Chris in the car and the three women set out to locate their target.

Their target as it turned out was the owner of a gun shop. But not some redneck, hillbilly type of place with a Confederate flag hanging on the wall, but a very upscale sort of shop. It seemed the man, who had been supplying weapons to the CPA for sometime, had begun leaking information on them to the NYC police department. It was time he stop talking.

The three assassins took positions around the building that the store was located in. Beatrix and O-Ren were given radios to communicate with each other, as well as Clarice. The DiVA's never used radios...Bill would have found the idea laughable at best. Each assassin was armed well. But they had decided to not use sniper rifles on this one, since the NYPD tended to have an eye out for snipers as of late.

Clarice had situated herself near the front doors. She blended in well, in her cooperate attire and sexy smile. She pressed her radio to her ear, "Sharp eyes ladies...once you see this guy, I want you on him in an instant."

Beatrix found the radio so fucking annoying as she glared down at the voice coming over the speaker. She hated this. She hated everything about it with a passion. What the fuck could she learn from this? Nothing. And even if she did she would never admit to it.

O-Ren was positioned at the side door. She wasn't fond of the radio nor Clarice's tactics. But she was much more compliant than Beatrix and stayed on task. She held the gun tight to her body and pressed against the wall, waiting.

Beatrix on the other hand was leaning on the wall at the back door. Other assassins would find her very unprofessional, especially the snazzy top notch CPA. But, Bea was far from unprofessional. She had reasons for doing anything and she had her own style. It worked damn good for the past five years and she wasn't about to change it. She wasn't taking this assignment seriously and she had no plans on trying to impress Bob with her supposed 'amazing' killings. The gun dangled from her hand aimlessly as her thoughts wandered. They almost wandered too far when she heard the back door screen open with a swish. The door almost swung into her face but she was quick to dodge it.

Standing in the doorway was a man in his middle forties. He wore a typical checkered stripped shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. He had curly black locks and a clean shaven face. He didn't look so tough. The target took a cautious step outside and into the open. This was when Bea adequately put the cool metal of her gun up to his head. "Hello," she spoke calmly. The man seemed to be just as calm, surprisingly so.

"Hey," his voice was smaller than she expected on such a large built man. "Bob sent ya, huh?"

Beatrix kept a tight grip on the trigger. "You could say that."

"I've never seen ya pick up from 'ere before. You must be new." He gave off a tight chuckle. "Let me tell ya babe, moves like this ain't gonna get ya far. Killed most likely."

This didn't daunt the blonde. "I like to take risks."

"Cocky aren't ya?"

It was Bea's turn to laugh. "Hardly." But this guy was quick. He swiped out a knife and stabbed at Bea's side. She was quick to move, only snatching the sleeve of her shirt, and set off her weapon. The shot nipped his collar bone and he hit the wall with a yelp. But before Bea could get in a final shot he grabbed a trash can lid, held it in front of him, and used it as a shield. The blonde cursed under her breath and gave up on the gun but before she could put it away the target revealed his own gun from under the trash can lid. He aimed before Beatrix could move and the bullet cut over her hand. Luckily it was only a deep gash wound and the bullet wasn't embedded in her skin. She had dropped the gun and now her target had both and her at gun point.

She took a step back. She didn't have a weapon. Or did she? Her slender brows narrowed. Right as he aimed she clipped off the radio from her belt and threw it at him. The thing was heavy and clanked him right on the head. He stumbled back and went unconscious.

Beatrix was tending to her hand when O-Ren ran over seconds after hearing the gun shots. "Is he dead?" She asked coolly.

Beatrix shrugged as she had a piece of torn shirt in her mouth, which she was rolling around her hand.

It didn't take Clarice long to follow the sound of the gunshots and find them. She came sprinting around the corner, a small sleek pistol in her hand. She seemed liked the kind of woman whom kept her firearm in a thigh holster under skirt. She surveyed the scene with wide light blue eyes.

"What the hell is this?" Her lips parted furiously, and she checked the target on the ground, "He's not dead! Jesus Christ! And why the hell didn't you radio me?" She quickly found out the answer to that question, when she spotted the radio sitting a few feet away from the target's head. "You...hit him with the radio?" She looked utterly shocked, as if it had just started raining frogs. "These are unacceptable tactics," she spat and then turned and swiftly shot the unconscious man right in the middle of the forehead. He jerked briefly and then fell still.

Clarice crossed her arms, glaring ice bolts at Beatrix, "That was not impressive Beatrix Kiddo," her name sounded really funny coming out of Clarice's mouth, "I don't know how your organization works...but us here at the CPA, we do things a little differently. We work," she began naming off, using her fingers like a brainwashed salesperson, "with discretion, speed, effectiveness, and style. Apparently, the kung fu farm you came out of does not apply such practices." She put her hands on her shapely hips, "Bob will hear a full report on this," she hissed, "..and I assure you Miss Kiddo he will not be pleased, not one bit."

Clarice turned away in a high class bitchy manner and walked in the direction of the car. O-Ren had been standing there quite silently and continued to remain so. But, when she passed by her blonde warrior friend she exchanged her with a grin that clearly read as a seven year olds; 'Ooo, you're in trouble.'

It was an hour later and Beatrix Kiddo sat in a large office. The room was flatly decorated with Red Oak furniture, burgundy carpeting, and a fake plant. Bea sat in a plush black leather chair, her arms extended on either side, legs were bent, and her body slouched in a very unprofessional posture. Blue eyes were vacant and lips were in a taut line. She held an all out haughty expression. Sitting across from her, back turned, was Bob, whom had remained completely and utterly silent since she came in. This was now going on for a total of ten minutes.

Beatrix was fully aware of what she did. But did she care? Hell no. Clarice was right, what she did back in the alley was far from impressive. That kill, well, it wasn't even a kill, it was sloppy. Her tactics could have been used by an amateur and the job would have been done with more cleanliness. Beatrix Kiddo was one of the best, the deadliest woman in the world and in those five minutes back at the alley she had lowered herself beyond those titles. Bill would have her head for that if he knew she took on an assignment in such a manner. But, then again if she had been working for Bill she would have never had a reason to do so. Not even if she was really pissed off at him. She'd find other ways. But this wasn't Bill, this was Bob. And she had no idea how Bob was going to react to something like this. Either way she'd take it in stride as nothing could lower her spirits lower than they were.

Bob let the silence drag on for another five minutes. Then in full dramatic style he spun his chair around to face her...with a maneuver like that, it was no surprise he was sitting with this fingers steeled over his chest...a cool frosty look leveled at her.

So, then he stared at her like that for a good minute. In which time, Beatrix was obviously undaunted. Bob was attempting to stare her down, but he apparently didn't realize she'd been stared down by those far better at it. Finally, he let his hands drop and he picked up a piece of paper that had been sitting in front of him on his desk. With a crisp move, he pulled out a pair of fashionable looking reading glasses, put them on and snapped the paper flat with a loud snap.

"Beatrix Kiddo," he read out loud in a clear professional tone, "Birthplace unknown, tentatively: Texas. Age: 24. Height: Six foot," he glanced up at her, as if thinking that something of an overstatement, then went back to reading, "Weight," he paused...a confused look coming over his face...as he continued, "...I wouldn't say, because it's extremely rude to talk about a woman's weight."

He coughed, letting that go, and continued on again, "Hair: golden blonde, like rays of the sunlight..." he paused again and obviously skipped over something, "Eyes: Blue. The richest most beautiful blue...What the hell is this?"

Bob's cool and calm demeanor momentarily cracked, "We'll just get to the rest..." he cleared his throat, like a stuffy librarian, "Weapons and styles of choice: the exquisite art of the samurai sword, Tiger Crane kung fu style, combat knifes...the SOG to be specific, hand pistols, semi-automatic firearms, grappling style ground fighting, full out nasty bitch style biting and clawing..." Bob paused again, tripped up by that, "...bo staff, throwing knifes, Wu shu blades...her big loud mouth," he stopped, a little miffed, "Well, we'll just skip on...it's obvious your familiar with many styles and weapons."

He went back to the paper, "Personality and Assassin Abilities Analysis: Beatrix Kiddo is a natural born killer. In battle she is by far the most effective warrior I have ever seen. She is aware of her surroundings and has a keen ability to use anything around her to her advantage. She is open to new ideas and is willing to try new tactics when needed. When she sets her mind to it, she's one hell of a team player. She is a natural leader, but can assume the role of follower quite as well. She is determined, unbending, and always keeping up with her training. She is in prime physical condition and has extremely nice legs..."

Bob cleared his throat again, "Eh...moving on...She is calm under pressure, but does possess a fiery temper that no man...not even you Bob," a pause, "..can attempt to control."

Bob looked annoyed, but continued on, "She's very smart and uses that to her utmost ability in battle. She's wise beyond her years. She's witty and charming...She's not afraid of anything and is not easily intimidated. She's a brilliant swordfighter and expert kung fu practitioner. Likewise, she's completely unreasonable when angry, can be uncompassionate to the feelings of others and has a tendency to lack any self control. She's insufferable and stubborn as hell." Bob, seemed to skim over a couple of lines, his face stony, "...Despite these few negative qualities, Beatrix Kiddo remains my best assassin and I highly doubt I will ever train another as good or quite like her in my lifetime. She does her job extremely well and when she has moments of shortcomings, she is aware of her mistakes and does her utmost to fix them. To top if all of, she's one hell of a woman, And I-"

Bob frowned, skipping a few more lines, "Lastly, Bob...I know your going to read this out loud to her in an attempt to intimidate her into doing a better job for you after she gives you a real flippant attitude. Good luck on that one you arrogant fuck. If you possessed an ounce of intelligence you would have read this beforehand, but I know you won't." Bob glared at the paper, skipping yet more lines, "Once Beatrix has set her mind to something, like annoying the shit out of you, you're a doomed man, doomed..." Bob stared at the paper with his jaw agape for a few seconds, but he quickly regained his composure. He decided he'd had enough of that. Neatly, he wadded it up into a tight ball and held it in a white knuckled fist.

"Well..." he adjusted his tie with the other hand, "All...of that other nonsense aside. I had asked your former," he stressed the word former, "boss to fill out this dossier for me and fax it over. Because, I was curious as to what happened with you today after Clarice's report and why I didn't see you use any of those talents that I was aware of you having. Obviously your former boss thinks rather highly of you." He tossed the wadded paper on his desk, leaning forward, "But, that...hack job you did today was pathetic," his voice was still icy calm but there was steel behind it, "With your former boss's description it's hard not to miss the fact that you are a very talented assassin...and what you did today was not the job of a very talented assassin. It was complete and utter shit."

He leaned back, removing his glasses and putting them back in his jacket pocket, "So...before I continue. I would like you to give an explanation as to why that exactly is."

Beatrix sat there, arms crossed over her chest, and her façade was set stone. Those rich beautiful blue eyes were void but the rims glimmered with a sparkle of amusement. She had remained quiet and attentive during Bob's read off of the dossier. Everything was more or less down pact and truthful. But, leave it Bill to send a dossier with those witty zingers on the side. The fact that Bill took the time to write up such a 'personal' dossier brightened her spirits but it'd be hard to tell through the daunting wall she put up.

Once almost everything on the dossier was read off the tall blonde casually leaned forward, snatched up the wad of paper from the desk, held it tight in her fist, and resumed her former position in the chair. Her reasons for taking the crumbled up dossier could have been thought of as stupid but she'd savor it.

Her gaze remained fixated on her 'new' boss for an overwhelming five minutes. He had made her wait so fucking long it was only right to return the favor. When she did finally speak her tone was icy cool, "You're right. The job I did today was shit and we both seem to be aware I'm capable of things far beyond compare." She shifted her position so that her body was less slouched and held in a more prominent posture; she leaned forward, arms crossed on the desk, and her neck craned forward tilting a fraction of an inch to the side. "Why...did I do what I did? I'll tell you straight out, no fucking around the bush." She paused. "I. Don't. Like. You."

Her lips came into a tight line. "I don't like working for you. I think this is all a bunch of shit. Yes, this could be a divine opportunity for me to advance my skills but right now, I'm not up for it." Her head canted more to the side. "My actions today were due to stress, anger, and the mere fact of being a stubborn bitch. Now, I could just be pissed off at Bill for agreeing to send me to some shit ass organization...But," she lifted a single digit. "I may not be." Her hand returned to the desk. Of course she could be lying about all of this. Bill forgot to add in that snippet of information. "In conclusion, as Bill so eloquently put it; you're doomed."

Bob listened to her with placid chilliness. "Well," he said after she'd finished, "I don't like you either Miss Kiddo. So we're just Even Steven now aren't we?" He leaned forward over his desk, mirroring her posture, "I don't care if you don't like me, or like working for me. I didn't ask for your opinion Miss Kiddo...I asked for a decent explanation. And personal opinions do not count as a valid explanation. You kill for me now...whatever...torch you bare for your former organization and obviously your former boss have no place here anymore." His ice blue eyes were fixated on her with utmost resolve, "I don't care if your stressed, angry, depressed, mad at your former boss or not...I simply," he slammed a fist down on his desk, "...don't...care. You have a job to do, and when you show up here for the day, you're on the job...any of these...personal problems that you have, are to be left at the door. I do not want them here!"

He leaned back, taking a breath and straightening his silk tie, "And for you to have the audacity to call what I have here a...shit ass organization is simply inappropriate. Such assumptions may be acceptable from where you came from, but not here. The CPA is one of the top rated assassination organizations in the entire world, and your...personal biases are simply getting in the way of giving it a chance." He paused, "It's uncalled for Miss Kiddo. Your poor attitude has completely disabled your ability to be an effective assassin. I will not have it. Nor will I have your threats. Your former boss may have the leverage to be so...flippant with me, but you Miss Kiddo do not."

Another long pause. Bob seemed to be fond of these. "If this is some sort of tactic to get me to send you back, it's not going to work. You're staying here. I will make you behave Miss Kiddo, or you will find this to be a very, very cold life."

"I already have a cold life, it couldn't drop any lower," the flippant blonde stated. Subconsciously she had hopes that her shit ass job would send her ass back to Bill but Bob was a smidge smarter than she perceived. Fucker. But, his threats didn't daunt her. They lowered her once higher spirits but besides that she hadn't brought down that stone wall cast over her demeanor.

Bob was a capital ass. No boss was worse than Bill but Bob was running into second. They both had different ways of running things and Bea liked Bill's tactics better. Not just because she 'knew' him but because his tactics were smarter.

She kept her current posture on the desk and blue eyes flickering off her current state of being irate. Slender brows rose and she pointed out a serious and blatant fact. "I won't behave."

Bob's thin eyebrow's raised fractionally, "Then welcome to hell Miss Kiddo. Have a good day." He spun his chair back around, completely shutting her off.

He obviously was done with her.


	2. Three Months

**Chapter 34: **_Three Months_

And thus, both O-Ren and Beatrix were sent back to work. So far, Clarice had been the only assassin they had been allowed to work with and it seemed that was the way things were going to be for awhile. The icy blonde only treated them worse on their next assignment and didn't appear to be thawing any time in the future. At night, Beatrix and O-Ren were left to do what they wanted...but during the day...a very watchful eye was kept on both of them, as they went about the business of working for the CPA.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned to months. O-Ren and Beatrix, as formidably promised were put through 'hell'. O-Ren remained pissed off at Beatrix for acting so fucking 'not herself' because it only back fired to punish O-Ren as well when she was putting on much better behavior. O-Ren came to realize that when Beatrix had inner turmoil she could become quite the bad ass bitch. A bitch that cared only for herself, her own feelings, and nothing about how her actions would affect the ones around her. Not that O-Ren didn't possess the same personality trait but when she was the victim she regretted it. Thus being soshe kept her words short to the blonde and thought with much lower expectations about the blonde.

Three fucking months of hell and Beatrix still wasn't on her best behavior. After awhile she behaved a little better on assignments. Once and awhile she'd pull off some amazing kick ass trick but they were nothing compared to what she could do if she was behaving and usually the trick was only brought on because she 'had' to, not because she wanted to.

The beginning of the third month wasapproaching and Beatrix was lying in bed. She was huddled under the covers, turned on her side, and her face, which remained emotionless was sporting a nasty gash above her right eye that was now patched with steri-stips. A balled up fist was clenched to her chest and within that tight fist she held a wad of paper. That crumbled up dossier that Bill faxed over to Bob almost three months ago.

A loud knock on the door indicated it was time to rise and shine. Beatrix drawled under the covers but made no motion to rise or shine.

"Come on Miss Kiddo!" This seemed to be the favored term for her around the CPA. "Rise and shine..." It was John, one of Bob's assistants that the two women had seen more than enough of as of late...seeing as Bob didn't like being around either of them...especially Beatrix. When John was able to persuade (yell at enough) Beatrix to get up, she was informed she would be working with a new assassin today. Apparently Clarice flat out refused to work with the other blonde. O-Ren on the other hand, Clarice seemed to like well enough to still work with her. And as it turned out Clarice had a special bend of the ear when it came to Bob and thus...the CPA was really not all that different than the Vipers.

Beatrix's new partner...at least for the day...was a man. Bob, like Bill didn't seem to employ many men. But, this guy...Shawn was his name, was the exception. He was brutal looking...not big nor tall, but flat out mean looking with a high widows peak and a set of dark eyes. He spoke in a low voice and said little. He seemed to not care one way or another that he had been assigned to work with one of the "trades" that day.

Shawn and Beatrix were being sent up to Maine. A short plane trip. They were assigned to take out a group of people, a small uprising rallying of militant types. This very well could have been a government sponsored job...but nobody said one thing one way or another. The group was working out of a houseboat out in the middle of the rural coastline. Working with Shawn was like working with a menacing looking cardboard box. He said nothing to Beatrix during there trip that was not absolutely necessary.

By the time they had chartered a car and driven up to the right area of houseboats, the sun was setting. The whole area was actually quite beautiful and a large orange sun was slowly dipping over the Atlantic Ocean. Silhouettes of sailboats dotted the horizon and the air was a comfy warm. Shawn could have cared less...they might as well have been in Antarctica. He parked the car next to a row of run down looking houseboats and pulled out a folder. "Its number five," he said in his deadpan voice, and put on a pair of sunglasses. "Let's gear up Miss Kiddo."

Without further instruction Beatrix began to conceal various weapons beneath her pair of jean capris and light indigo blouse. When Shawn asked if she was set to go she gave a tight nod and followed him to their destination. She had been void of anything the entire morning and now even more so. She had much more important things on her mind.

Shawn told her to take the front entrance while he stoked out the back. But, Beatrix didn't go to the front door.

Beatrix Kiddo was known for being spontaneous and irrational and this had to rank on the top five list of being one of the most spontaneous and irrational things she'd ever done. She was sick of it, done, thrown out, through, she didn't want to put up with it anymore and the only way to put away your problems was running away. She didn't want to wait for the 'trades' to be 'traded' back.

She stole the car that Shawn had stolen and ran off. Where was she headed? Back to Bill of course. Quite an ironic person to be running to, but she'd run to him before, unintentionally, but it had changed her life. She wasn't afraid of the consequences that would acquire when she arrived at her final destination. As far as Beatrix was concerned the reward of being on her home-turf was well worth the pain. No regrets.

She drove clear across country and only took three stops a day to water and feed herself. Other than that it was a twenty four seven on the road straight through. It only took her a week to cross the border into sunny Mexico.

The car pulled into the familiar driveway and a sparkle of true bliss came into her eyes as she got out of the car. Her features remained firm as she walked to the door and found it was open. Slender brows knit together as she took an awkward step inside. To her disappointment it was not Bill whom greeted her in the foyer but a woman. She was shorter, around 5'6'' with curly auburn locks, green eyes, and she wore a pair of black jeans and a leopard print top. She wasn't pretty but she wasn't ugly, she held an inner beauty in her stature. This had to be one of the 'trades'. "May I help you?" She asked in a civil tone similar to how all the CPA's spoke.

"Yeah, I need to talk to Bill," Beatrix replied in a not so polite tone. The brunette stared at Beatrix for a long while as if evaluating her before she gave a sharp nod. "Wait here. I'll inform him of your presence." She than turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway.

There were a few long minutes, where neither the brunette nor Bill returned. Then, the distinct sound of Bill's voice filtered up the hallway, mixed with the tone of the brunette's.

"Who?"

"A tall blonde Bill...she didn't give her name, I-"

But Bill had already rounded the corner...and then he came to a sudden stop. Rarely...very rarely did Bill look truly shocked and surprised. This was one of those moments. A pen he had been holding in his left hand, hung loosely between two fingers and his normally frowning mouth was nearly agape. Bill looked a little different, well...he still looked like Bill. But his hair was longer, as if he had simply decided not to cut it in those three months. And he was completely baked tan...looking as if he had spent most of those three months outside in the hot sun. On top of that he looked as tired as hell...with very little or no sleep for a number of days.

"Kiddo..." he finally managed...looking a little silly...which again was a rare moment.

"You know this woman?" the brunette glanced back and forth from Bill to Beatrix, looking utterly confused.

"Of course I know this woman," Bill almost hissed. He seemed to be having an internal struggle of sorts and the brunette was peering at him through narrow eyes. He took a few tentative steps toward Beatrix, and then quite suddenly he embraced her in an almost bone crushing hug. For now, he didn't say anything...no doubt that would come momentarily.

Oh God she needed this. She let arms slip around him to return the embrace and she held to him tightly. The pretty blonde tilted her head so her face was now buried against his neck and shoulder and she still held tight. This made it all worth it, the whole goddamn trip and even going through those three months just to come back to this. He didn't greet her with rhetorical words or telling her how much she fucked this up but instead he greeted her with a hug. A hug that could be shared by any set of friends or even couples but a hug shared by two killers was a sight to see.

They stayed glued together for what could be hours but was only a minute. They both reluctantly parted and stood mere inches from one another. Beatrix stared at him. She didn't want to be the one to speak first and ruin what they shared seconds ago so she stood there with a glowing aurora trying desperately not to keep her hopes up.

Bill's hands were still on Beatrix's shoulders and he held her away from him, but not much. His eyes bore into her for a moment with a mixture of warmth, worry and relief.

"Jesus...Kiddo...I was so worried," he said softly, a hand straying from her shoulder to her face, "Bob called me about a week ago and told me you just up and disappeared on an assignment. Well, I assumed the worst of course...some asshole had killed you...I..." He seemed to search for his next reaction.

Meanwhile, the brunette was just standing off to the side looking shocked and more than a little uncomfortable. Bill still seemed to be fighting an internal battle. He was so amazingly happy to see Beatrix, that he was having a hard time reaching for the normal professional reaction he should have. He'd thought about her so much over the last three months...but he had not expected to see her like this. It had thrown him off completely.

He could yell at her...surely that's what she expected, judging by her expression. He could...but would he...?

"Why'd you do it?" He simply asked her quietly.

Was this the same man she left three months ago? Yes and no. But more so was her relief that they weren't going into a full out argument. They were being...rational.

Beatrix pursed her lips into a tight smile and turned her eyes to the floor. "I.." she trailed off, her eyes rising to him but her head remained tilted to the floor. "I missed you." She was being truthful for once and no amount of sodium menthol or verbal coursing had to be induced. Her smile stretched. "That and I couldn't stand it anymore."

Bill stared at her. She had told him the truth...he knew that. And it was so refreshing. As needed as that hug had been for Beatrix...and him as well, that little bit of real truth was needed even more. She hadn't of lied, or been vague. Nor had she given him a smart ass remark or a shy brush off.

"You..." a trademark half smile smirk spread across Bill's face, "...drove across the entire US...went AWOL on the CPA...because you missed a bastard like me? Well..." a smile, "...that and not standing it...I..."

It was a little hard to comprehend for him...not that he was complaining but...her irrationality was extremely frightening. But, right now he wasn't sure if he cared.

"I missed you..." a flicker of raw emotion, "...so much." His hand tightened on her shoulder.

If the watching brunette felt awkward before, she sure as hell did now.

Bill looked on the verge of spilling his emotional guts, but he was keeping it to together as he did so well. "Bob's irate...he told me he was glad you were presumed dead." A murderous gleam crossed Bill's face, "I told him to go burn in hell."

Beatrix brought her head back up and laughed. A real hearty laugh with full frontal of white teeth and lips tugged into a smile. The laugh died down and her lips came into a thin smile. "I appreciate that."

She knew if that fucking CPA brunette wasn't standing there she would be able to dig out more of Bill's raw emotion. But the emotion she was getting, and she was getting a lot was more than enough...well she wasn't going to work up on too much of a 'good' thing. Bea wasn't sure if Bill was aware how much it meant to her that he didn't 'yell' at her, as it put a whole new perspective on things.

Well, all sappy romance aside, time to get serious. The tall blonde took a step back from him, put hands on her hips, canted her head to the side, and narrowed cold temperature blue eyes on him. "Do I get my job back?"

Bill let the question hang in the air for a few long seconds. He fixed Beatrix with a serious expression, that if looked at close enough was simply one of his fake theatrical expressions. As if his previous reaction wasn't enough of an answer to her question. With a sudden turn, he gestured towards the brunette...who had slowly been sinking further into the corner of the entryway. "Beth," her name was finally revealed.

She brightened up, "Yes Bill?" she said in peppy ready to please voice. She stepped up to him, ready to receive in instructions.

Bill leaned in close to her face. She flinched backwards. He then very implicitly said, "Go pack." Beth's jaw dropped. She looked like she was going to argue. But with a face such as his, like it was...she wasn't about to. "Yes Bill...of course..." she took a few steps back, shooting Beatrix a glance, "...Right away..." She hesitated a moment longer and then stormed off down the hallway.

Bill turned back to Beatrix, eyebrows rose, "Does that answer it for ya Kiddo?" A smirk.

Beatrix beamed. "Aye, it does." She stared at him. Her blue eyes glimmered and set off immediate clues of what she was yearning to do. Something far from a loving embrace. A tentative step was taken towards him. Her eyes came half lidded, her head tilted, and she leaned to bring lips to his. So close and then she canted her head as if she never had plans to kiss him. "Hello Budd," she spoke softly.

"Hey Bea. You're not dead," the cowboy said. He had been in the back training with the other 'trade' and had strolled in for a drink to see his brother and presumed 'fallen off the face of the earth' blonde friend standing there rather immersed with one another.

"I'm a live and well," she stated taking a step away and peering at Budd past Bill's shoulder.

Budd tipped his head. "Good to hear." He flashed her a suggestive smile and turned to the fridge to get a drink. He meant it, he liked Beatrix he just had his doubts. "Oh, Bill," Budd popped his head out from behind the fridge door. He puckered his lips to regain what he was about to say, "Ah, yeah, Bob's on the phone. Seems ya got Beth in a tissy and she called 'em up." He chuckled with a shake of his head and shut the fridge door with the tip of his boot. "Anywho, I'll be out back." He began to walk to the patio. "Nice to have ya back, Bea. Shit, Bill was starting to drive me up the wall these past few months. I swear--" his muttering dissipated into a jumble of words as he exited to the outside.

Goddamn Budd...

Bill remained frozen, head tilted to the side, a hand on Beatrix's shoulder. He gave her a wry smile and then slowly turned around to glare at his brother. "Wonderful," Bill said in a dry tone when Budd told him about Bob. He gave Beatrix a deeply regretful look and picked up the phone sitting on the end of the bar. Right as he was about to speak into the receiver, he covered it with his hand and turned back towards Beatrix.

"Kiddo...get that woman out of my house..." a raised eyebrow, "Forcefully if needed" Apparently calling up Bob and tattling hadn't gone over well with Bill. He uncovered the receiver, and frowned as a faint male voice could be heard yelling manically on the other end. "Bob...calm down," he spoke in that trademark smooth tone. "No...and I don't care...Hrm..yes of course. Send it over. Well, Bob...your an asshole that's why...of course I am..but..." he watched as Beatrix went down the hallway to "help" Beth in leaving as soon as possible...

Beatrix was more than happy to oblige to Bill's demand. She walked down the hallway and halted in the doorway to one of the spare room's. Inside was Beth in a 'tissy'. Beatrix leaned against the door frame. "Are you leaving?" She questioned coolly.

"Yes," Beth replied tartly and stuffed a handful of clothing into her suitcase. A hustled and unorderly fashion of packing pursued until Beth was completely packed. She hefted up the suitcase and walked to the door. She halted as she came side to side with Beatrix. The brunette looked up the tall blonde and started as if she were to say something. But, she didn't either to the fact the tall blonde appeared too menacing to the shorter brunette or she just didn't want to. She huffed; brushed past her, speed down the hallway, and left.

Beatrix followed soon after the slamming of the front door was heard. As she reentered the living room she found Bill still immersed on the phone. So, she plopped her boney ass down next to him and let her head fall to his shoulder in a content manner as she had done the next best thing while waiting for him to conclude.

Nonchalantly Bill wrapped an arm around Beatrix's shoulders, as he continued to talk to Bob. His gaze was fixated across the room, as he was obviously deeply concentrated on the conversation, "Well...Bob, I don't know what to tell you...That's just the way it's going to be...No...No...Fuck you Bob. What?" He laughed. This bizarre conversation went on for a few more minutes and then finally Bill hung up.

"Fucker," he mumbled under his breath as he shut his phone and tossed it on the coffee table. He turned to Beatrix with a smile, "This is gunna be good," he untangled himself from her and walked across the living room over to the fax machine that was discreetly camouflaged into the entertainment center.

"Bob seems to be having something an affair with his fucking fax machine," Bill said snidely as he pulled a piece of paper out of it. "I might as well indulge the pathetic tightwad." He returned to the couch and returned to his former position with Beatrix. "Now," he chuckled, obviously very amused. He put on a fake "Bob-like" voice, and cleared his throat overdramatically as he began reading, "Beatrix Kiddo...is...a highly irrational, irresponsible, rebellious, foul mouthed, trashy," he raised an eyebrow, "...white trash, piece of useless trash. She is hardly worthy of being called an assassin. She is flippant to authority and is nothing of a team player. She has no respect for her fellow employees. She cannot follow orders correctly. Her assassination skills are mediocre at best. She has been a complete waste of my time..."

Bill stopped and turned to Beatrix with a smirk, "Something tells me he's a little upset with you..."

Beatrix was leaning back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, and her arms draped over the back. She gave him a look that read 'no shit Sherlock', along with a sly smirk. She slipped her hands back down to her side and placed a hand into the depth of her pants pocket.

"I happen to like this one..." she said as she pulled out a crumbled, battered, wad of paper. She began to gingerly unfold it and straighten the creases by putting it on her lap to make it look presentable. "And I thought it was much more accurate." She ran hands over the dossier Bill sent Bob that now looked nowhere close to what it used to be. Once it looked somewhat worthy to be shown to Bill she lifted it and set it down on top of the fax he had currently been reading. She held a gentle smile.

Bill glanced down that the rumpled piece of paper in his lap. After a moment, he gingerly picked it up. A small smile spread across his face, "I sent this over three months ago. " he said quietly. It looked like Beatrix had been sleeping with it under her pillow. It appeared well loved, read and reread...as if it had been a light clung to for dear life in a dark place. In just that simple state of this piece of paper so much was said. It was quite touching...in a strange way.

He chuckled, rereading his own words. "Oh yes...this is far more accurate..." After a few moments of looking back over his own description of the woman next to him, he slowly set it back down still smiling. His hand rested lovingly on the rough piece of paper. He turned to her, "I meant every word of that. I hope you know that..."

"It took me fifty rereads to realize that," she said softly her tone laced with sarcasm. Of course, she knew. How couldn't she? If she didn't believe he meant it than she wouldn't have spent each night reading and analyzing it. She kept a fond gaze on him but her expression became more severe.

He smiled at her sarcasm. Yes, of course he knew...he needn't even have said that. The love and wear the paper had endured spoke volumes.

"Don't ever do that to me again, Bill," words spoken with more of a threat than intended. But, she had to get that point across. She had to somehow make it clear to him how much 'suffering' she endured the past months. But, all that suffering was able build a harder shell and in some ways she was thankful for it but in most ways she was not. Either way the outcome was becoming more gratifying than first anticipated. Everything had a pro and a con.

Bill frowned at her "threat", but it wasn't a frown of anger...more of mutuality. With Bill, frowns didn't necessarily mean bad...they were seemingly always there. He nodded in understanding. And leaning on his elbow, he took a moment to obviously think something out...an idle hand, some might say a nervous hand, scratching his earlobe.

"No...I don't think I'll ever do that again..." he said with a tone of finality. He wanted likewise to have her understand just how much "suffering" he too had endured. Not in a selfish means, but in an expressive way. But he wasn't sure how to exactly communicate that. "While you were away," he began in a story mode voice, "I took some time off...drove South." When Bill spoke of driving South, he was generally speaking about his childhood home, Acuna Mexico. "I...needed...to think and get away from here. I did some camping...you know, running around naked, beating on drums, dancing around a blazing fire screaming, " he gave her a wry smile, "typical male exfoliation stuff. And then I went and saw Estiban." Beatrix was very familiar with the name of Estiban, even if she'd never met the man. "It was good to see him again. I told him about you, us..." he held up a hand, "...don't worry...just a general overview. Anyways, I told him...that I think I was falling in love with you, and it was driving me absolutely crazy," he kept going, despite the weightiness of that statement, "...And that I, honestly was at a loss at what to do."

He paused, eyes narrowing in thought, "He told me..." and of course Bill could nearly mimic a voice that Beatrix would hear much later on, "...if you want to love this woman...then, you must...learn to hate the part of you that she hates. You must find it, and loathe it. Take it out of you and give it to her to destroy." He looked quizzical at his own words and dropped the Estiban voice, "Well...I didn't know what the fuck to think of that. So, I went away again...Keep in mind Estiban used to be a pimp, albeit a good one. But he's a wise man nonetheless." He fell silent again, still frowning in thought, "I can't say I've completely figured it out...but...I'm starting to understand."

It appeared that for the first time in his life Bill was willing to admit to a shortcoming on his part and make an effort to adopt a new method of thinking. Needless to say, it was a work in progress.

"In short," he said finally, "I don't think I can ever do that to you again."

This woman that Bill supposedly loved stared at him for the longest time. Her lips in a taut line and blue eyes covered emotion. It hadn't been her intention to stare nor for such a lengthy period but in the process she was thinking. So, it finally all made sense, partially. Bill loved her and it only took dancing naked under a full moon and receiving wise words from a pimp to establish that realization. The problem was she didn't love him back. Not yet. Beatrix told him that they, she was close. She was almost there but that was three months ago. It was up for debate whether she still felt that close.

She blinked hard, breaking her reverie and sat up. Another dose of questioning plagued her mind before words filled her mouth. 'Learn to hate what she hates.' Well, Beatrix had a very, very long list of things she hated about Bill and she was positive some of these things Bill wasn't and never would be aware of. Unless she told him, but most likely never would. That involved telling the truth about him.

Even if Bill was to get rid of numerous traits she despised, that brought up the factor of if she'd still be left with the same person. She learned from her own set of wise words that you could love a person's flaws as much as the person themselves. Thus, she was put in a dilemma but this time she knew how to solve it.

Her façade washed over warm but deadly serious. She caught his eye and kept it. "Let's try and get a few things clear." A heart beat. "Don't change, not for me." Another pause. "Shit, there are so many things I absolutely hate about you. And as much as I'd love to destroy all of it I'd be destroying what makes Bill, Bill and I don't want that." She folded hands on her lap and brought her eyes downcast. "What you did today...that...that was amazing. You knew what I expected and turned it upside down. It wasn't necessarily a change in character but a self discovery. That you don't need to be a complete bastard to get a point across." She looked back to him. "That, that, is taking what I hate about you and...tweaking it just enough so I can still hate it...but I can deal with it." Beatrix let a timid smile grace her face. She wanted to tell him that if she could learn to deal with it maybe she could learn to love it. Although that would be getting their hopes up and she didn't want to step in that far.

This had all gotten very weighty very quickly.

Bill shifted on the couch, "I didn't say I was going to change...I simply can't at this point in my life. Attempt to moderate...that's more what I mean." He thought about what she had said further, "And I didn't say I was in love with you," This was Bill attempting to pull the heart off he had just displayed on his sleeve, "I said I think I am falling in love with you," he reiterated with a pointed finger, " And I surely don't expect you to return the favor...that's asking a lot." He gave her a small smile to take the edge off those last few sentences. He hadn't meant them to be harsh. He was just trying to gain back some sense of realism in all of this.

He thought about what she had said, in what he had done today as being "amazing" He watched her with a furrowed brow. The concept of a simple hug seemed something of a no brainier to most people. But, to Bill, being a bastard to get a point across was the only way to do it. Maybe not the only way, but it had been the most effective way...until now. He gave her a half smile, "You really hate that much about me...that you would destroy all of it given the chance?" Well, it was more of a joke, of course he knew that. But, he was a little puzzled...if she hated so much about him then why did she choose to be around him the way she did? Why had she allowed him to get so close? He knew she wasn't telling the full truth about him...but he'd learned to live with that...at least for the moment. For right now, she was giving him partial truths and that was enough.

"I can deal if you can deal," he said finally.

Beatrix was confused. She was confused about emotions, feelings, and judgments. This was becoming too weighty for her mind to hold and she didn't want to strain herself. Thus, she dropped it and gave a tight nod. "I can deal just fine," she said with a touch of reassurance more for herself than him.

Silence issued through out the room. What was just said and issued would take time to come to terms and all that was left was uncertainty. Beatrix shifted on the couch. She pursed her lips and finally said, "You know next week draws the fifth year of my working here." Her words were misplaced but it helped break the silence. Her blue eyes drew over to him, her expression came docile.

Bill knew that she'd reached something of an emotional wall, and honestly...he felt much the same. It was all the well with him right now. He smiled, "Five years? Damn Kiddo...well...you're right. When you get to be old and jaded five years doesn't seem at that long..." He gave her a smirk, "Oh...that reminds me...look what I found..." He pulled a photograph out of the pocket of his jacket. This was Bill's usual jacket, so obviously he'd been carrying it around with him for sometime, "I was cleaning up some old files in the back room," Beatrix was aware of exactly what the "back room" was now.

"And I came across this..." He handed her the photograph. It was of her, but she looked so drastically different it was somewhat amusing. It must have been taken right when she had joined the DiVA's. She was standing a little off center in the frame, wearing a light blue peasant girl shirt, and a pair of stone washed jeans. Her expression was fresh and naive. Her eyes large and innocent...almost childlike. Standing next to her and a little chopped off the side of the picture was Elle...then with two eyes. Elle's hair was longer, a little wilder. On Beatrix's other side was Budd, but his back was partially turned. Only Beatrix seemed to actually be looking at the camera.

"I suppose I took this," he said, after she had looked at it for a moment, "You look like a baby there...five years has changed you..."

Beatrix pulled her legs up into an Indian style sitting posture on the couch. She hastily snatched the photograph from him, in a non-hostile manner, and dawned on the photo with an amused smile. Just the fact that Bill happened to be 'cleaning up' and found the photograph told her she wasn't the only one counting the days. It was a welcome and a very humorous fact.

Bill found her reaction amusing, he knew she'd find it a trip to look at that picture. He also knew his very act of clinging onto that picture was something of a dead giveaway of how he had felt the last few months. It was fucking silly...but after what he'd just said, he figured he didn't have much more to loose in the way of not being a complete heartless bastard. "I'm terrible at taking pictures," he stated the oblivious as she was looking a it.

She didn't recall when the photo was taken or what they had been doing. Bill's job with a camera left something to be desired. "I look so cute," she pointed out as she continued to inspect the 'memory' in her hand. "Shit, five fucking years. It feels like I've been here for ages." She settled the photograph on her lap and blue eyes still stared at it almost fondly.

"I was a...kid," her tone leveled and she spared a glance to him. "I was so fucking peppy and naïve it scares me." She laughed lightly. She was a kid five years ago. She was twenty, hardly into her adult years or even legal. But, now she was no kid, she was an adult, a woman. She returned her gaze to the photo and traced a single digit idly over the glossy surface in a silent envy. "We've all changed."

He watched her talk with a faint smile. She was still something of a kid in his book...well, at least age wise. Five years didn't seem like ages to Bill. But he remembered thinking that it was, and he didn't discredit that. He chuckled, "You did look damn cute," he agreed with utmost truthfulness. Beatrix, always...always was attractive...the words for it simply changed. "We were all peppy and naive at some point in our lives Kiddo..." he leaned back, hands lacing behind his head, "Believe it or not, even I was naive at one point...peppy no...but certainly naive. We all have to be that way at first to grow up." It hadn't of bothered him she had been that way those years ago. He'd seen many act the same way as her, they always got over it...and if they didn't, they were doing the wrong thing for a living. Besides, it had been rather fun to impress her back then...nowadays...he had to do something really fucking cool to get that reaction out of her.

"But yes, I suppose we all have changed..." he agreed, eyes downcast on the picture, "Elle's the only one to have lost a vital body part though...pretty good stats." He smirked, but sobered up when he noticed the touch of envy in her voice. "You miss yourself, how you were then?" Bill much preferred her now, but that wasn't the point.

It was hard to think of Bill as naïve... but everyone was at one point. Although Beatrix recalled herself being more of an innocence naïve. Almost, everyone was innocent, in their much younger years but Beatrix kept a touch of her innocence past the designated age. Of course, she wasn't a full fledged innocent because if she had been she wouldn't have gone into the profession that she had. No, her innocence was more directed towards what she was getting herself into. Within one year of joining the DiVAS she had done and seen more than any human would care to witness.

She'd never regret loosing innocence. She'd lost it training with Pai Mei and Bill finished it off with any further corruption. Beatrix didn't regret it, but looking at the picture she did spark a feeling of missing it. She tilted her eyes down at the photo. "A little," she said gently. She side glanced to him. She could tell by his voice that he much preferred her now. Hell, so did she. Beatrix finally built up that stone wall and there were little to no cracks to speak of.

A timid smile slide over her features. She wasn't going to elaborate further and avoided it by recalling, "That's right, Elle had both eyes back then." She suppressed a laugh. "One of these days I'm going to find out what she said to make Pai Mei snatch out her eye. And she's not going to give me a shitty it's none of your business."

Innocence was such a broad term. There were multiple facets of it and multiple ways to eventually lose it. Most "normal" people always retained a little speck of it, at least in Bill's mind. But to be a killer, one had to be willing to give up every bit of innocence. To kill, in itself was an extinguisher of all that was pure and blissful to the sins of the world. Bill could safely say...not a grain, not even a minuscule one, of innocence remained within him. He had seen enough, done enough, been enough, lied enough, fucked over, been fucked over, literally fucked, killed, hurt, been hurt, corrupted, pillaged, ripped apart, damaged, destroyed, erased, bastardized, bloodied and hated so much that he was pretty damn sure that the frailty of innocence couldn't have survived it all. A pity...at times, he wanted to remember what it felt like. There were snippets of memory...but they were dim and lacked the full saturation of the moment.

Ah, but Beatrix on the other hand. There still remained a small ray of innocence within her. It was slowly fading behind the walls of experience and pain she was currently building...but it was there...like a tiny slowly dying light. A few more years for her, a few more really hard knocks and perhaps it will finally fade away. More than that, there was still that soft side to her, a side that Bill had mixed feelings about. It was that side that refused to kill that mother and her daughter awhile back. That side kept her from crossing the line over to the side where he stood, waiting like a cold shadow. On a professional level, he hated that side of her...it was a huge risk. On a personal level, he adored that side. It made her a woman...and brought all the tantalizing qualities of that nature out in her.

Bill blinked out of his reverie, realizing his gaze had been fixated on her for sometime. "Hrm? Yes...Elle," he gave a knowing smile. "Someday...she'll tell you." He said confidently and left it at that. Whatever words and confessions transgressed between Elle and Bill would always remain a locked mystery to the rest. He then slowly reached over and picked the picture back up that had been resting on Beatrix's knee...and then slipped it back in the pocket of his jacket.

Beatrix watched solemnly as he stowed the photo away. "If you come across anymore photographs of me, do share," she said and pulled herself up to stand on two feet. A small smile remained on her visage as she turned to him. "I'm off," she declared lightly.

"I may not look it but I feel like shit."

Showing a great amount of relief at her return, Bill sent Beatrix on her way with a kiss to the forehead. He told her his usual 'go home and get some rest', knowing that the moment she left, he was going to do just that himself. He'd lost a great amount of sleep that week due to her disappearance and now he had every intention to get it all back.


	3. Close Encounters

**Chapter 35: **_Close Encounters_

The next few days passed without incident. Bob called Bill a few more times, his panties apparently still in a wad over Beatrix. Bill spent those conversations subtly trying to piss Bob off even more with vague insults. Bill eventually unplugged his fax machine, because he was sick and tired of receiving Bob's pointless threatening faxes. It seemed, when it came to Bill...Bob was mostly talk. The leader of the CPA seemed a little frightened of Bill and never took any of his threats to fruition. Bill didn't give a shit, as long as he didn't get one more fucking fax...

O-Ren was shipped back a few days after Beatrix's runaway return. The Chinese/Japanese woman apparently had caused some 'trouble' after Beatrix departed but as to what trouble she stirred up was a mystery. She still seemed a little miffed at Bill but he shrugged it off. When it came to him, she always came around.

It was five days after Beatrix had returned, on a bright morning when her doorbell rang. By the "style" of the whole thing, it didn't seem to be anybody she knew all to well. They tended to just pound on the door, or yell at her through it.

When Beatrix got up and answered the door, it was indeed not anybody she knew. A middle aged man in a dark suit stood planted on her doorstep. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, but he quickly took them off. Flipping out his wallet in the distinctive "cop style" manner, he revealed the badge that nobody in the assassin business liked to see very much.

"Miss Rebecca Willard," one of many of Beatrix's aliases, "I'm Special Agent Shulling from the FBI," he regarded her coolly with hazel eyes, "Might I have a word with you?"

'Rebecca Willard' was standing in the door way. She was adorned in a pair of gray sweat pants and a black tight fitting tank top. The weather was cooling and by a great extent of luck she didn't wear a scantly clad extra large t-shirt that night. So, she answered the door in respectable attire. As extensively trained as any professional assassin was they were just as extensively trained in dealing with the law. She wiped the slate clean of annoyance and surprise and kept to the hopeless victim.

When the authorities showed up Beatrix always felt more inclined to hate this part of her job even more than the possibilities of getting killed. But, she'd deal with it.

The tall blonde put on a casual façade and stepped to the side to admit entrance. "Of course." Once Agent Shulling was inside Beatrix casually sauntered into the living room were she motioned for the man to take a seat. It was always best to be polite because than you'd get on their good side. It also helped if one was not too 'movie' themed when dealing with the authorities when you knew you were hiding something. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Agent Shulling gave "Rebecca" a tight professional smile, "Yes...that would be nice. Coffee, black." He seated himself straight backed on the nearby recliner. After a moment of gazing around the apartment in a skeptical manner, he placed his briefcase on his lap, opened it and began sifting through the contents as Beatrix went to make the coffee.

She returned, and handed him a cup, and then seated herself across from him. Agent Shulling took his time organizing the contents he had removed from his briefcase, then he shut it and shuffled the papers in his hands.

"Now...Miss Willard...I have certain...leads to believe you are associated with a man we've been looking for...for quite sometime," he began in a crisp tone. He pulled a glossy 8 X 10 black and white photo from the pile of papers, "We have a number of aliases for this man...but we are fairly certain he goes by the name of 'Bill'," he leaned forward and handed her the photo. It was Bill alright, but like many FBI files it was rather outdated...probably a good twenty years dated. It was a slightly blurry shot of Bill from the chest up. He was wearing a suit and turning slightly to the side, as if walking rather quickly. Darker hair, same style...just younger. To no surprise he was frowning, with a furrowed brow.

Agent Shulling let Beatrix observe the photo for a few seconds. He leaned back, "Let me be honest with you Miss Shulling. We have fairly significant evidence to link you to a number of murders." He picked up a piece of paper, "Recently...in Miami, San Francisco and Birmingham Alabama. Currently, we lack enough solid evidence to do much about it at the moment...but," he raised his eyebrows, giving her a serious look, "...eventually we will. Whereupon your arrest, you will likely serve out a life sentence for the crimes you have committed."

Shulling let that sink in, this man was a pro. He knew exactly what he was doing. "But...this could all be avoided...if," he pointed at the picture still in Beatrix's hands, "...you can give me the location or information leading to the arrest of Bill. Once we have him in custody...all pending charges against you will be dropped, completely."

He leaned forward again, hands resting on his knees, "Wouldn't it be nice...Miss Shulling...to begin again with a clean slate?" He reached over and picked up the mug of coffee, watching her over the brim.

Beatrix continued to stare at the photo in her hands for quite some time and perhaps longer than warranted. Of course, she had listened closely to what Agent Shulling was saying and took it all in. Each of the Viper's had their dealings with the law on more then one occasion. Each time was different. This time Beatrix didn't feel any less inclined to tell any truth.

Ah, but to start off with a clean slate poked a needle through her blackened heart. Some times she yearned for it and tried to think of a reason that would allow her to get away with it. She looked for a legitimate excuse that could start her life anew and make up for past mistakes. But, that went back to the point of being in the norm and she was far from it. Such was life and right now her life was pretty damn good, considering. She wasn't going to fuck it up, not yet.

"Indeed it would but," she handed him back the glossy photograph. "I've never seen that man before."

Shulling was watching Beatrix closely. He was well trained in these sort of things...and he frowned noticeably when she gave him a negative response. A polygraph test would have been very nice at the moment...but again, there was not enough evidence against Beatrix as of yet to give the right to implement such a test.

"You do realize there is significant evidence that links the two of you together?" But again, she only repeated what she'd said before. "Hrm, very well...," he said softly and shuffled the photo back into the stack of papers.

"I must tell you Miss Willard, that if you are convicted...withholding evidence, especially evidence against a man such as the one I asked you about, will only add more upon your already long sentence. The court does not look kindly upon withholding evidence against international murderers."

Still, the blonde was a sheet of innocence.

Shulling took a few more sips of his coffee, sitting quietly. It was a comfort tactic...people often made mistakes when in uncomfortable social situations. But again, this tactic seemed useless against this woman. Her flat out denial seemed to be all she was going to give him.

After a moment longer, Shulling stood...setting his coffee down, "Unless you have any other...information to give me... I will be on my way." He reached into his pocket and handed her a FBI issued business card, "My number...in case," a small smirk, "you change your mind about that clean slate." He raised an eyebrow.

Beatrix took the card with a spark of gratitude. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." She began to melodiously walk the agent to the door. She'd never change her mind nor have a second thought about giving Bill in. But, she would take second thoughts on the clean slate idea and these thoughts would in no manner be self preserved.

She casually opened the door and offered a fractured smile to Agent Shulling. "I'm sorry if I've caused you any inconvenience, sir." And with a final good-bye and further tries of persuasions the FBI man was gone. She tossed the card into the garbage.

* * *

The man's name was Ryu Hakikuro. But he went by "The Red Dragon" these days. He had been a member of the Japanese underground for over ten years. Now...he was a renegade. He'd come to the United States and his former yakuza brotherin wanted him wiped out of the picture. He was a liability to their credit...because he was a loose cannon.

He was fucking crazy really. The scary thing was Ryu was crazy, but he was also an incredibly skilled fighter and that was a bad combination. In desperation, the yakuza had contacted the Deadly Viper Association. And, naturally upon seeing the stats on the target, Bill sent Beatrix Kiddo.

Now, after finding her target and battling him for sometime...she found herself the target.

Ryu was a very disturbed individual. He was not just a simple killer, but an all around psychopath. He'd done every dirty deed a human being was capable of...and he was only getting worse. He knew, right away, that this tall blonde warrior would be his next. She was perfect. She'd been sent to kill him, but she was about to find that he was not like any of her other targets. She was going to suffer before she met her end at his blade.

They'd had a good battle but Ryu was absolutely skilled at what he did. And while, Beatrix was equally as good, Ryu had managed to gain the upper hand. He was a large man, especially for one of Oriental dissention...standing at well over six feet and massively built. He was in his thirties...but it was hard to tell exactly where. His hair was scraggly, at uneven lengths around his ears. He didn't appear to wash it much. He had a cruel face...with two dark, deep set eyes that seemed capable of showing nothing but madness. Everything about him was unkempt, as if he used to care...but had let it all go. His clothing was dirty and ill fitted and his shoes were falling apart.

Currently, he was standing above the fallen blonde warrior, his sword in his hand...hers was laying a few feet away. She was bruised, a little bloody but nothing compared to what she was going to be. She was staring up at him furiously, but she was smart enough to not ignore his blade at the ready. He was breathing hard, out of exertion and perhaps more.

"Not so bad..." he spoke to her in short gasps, he didn't seem like much of a man of words, "But...I'm afraid you're not quite good enough..." He flicked the small amount of blood off the end of his sword, "You thought I'd be just another kill...I know your type...but I am far from it..." his gaze turned down at her, "...I'm much more..."

Since Beatrix's temporary absence she had been raring to get back in the game. Bill had sent her on a few minor assignments that were easy offs but now she was prepared for the bigger 'fish'. She was anxious to show off and get her skills back to standard, to basically gain back the respect she had lost within those three months of working for the CPA. This target, "Red Dragon" was perfect, too perfect. She had put up a fair fight, gave it her all, and now she was down for the count.

Her nose was fractured and seeping blood and she had acquired multiple black and blue marks. At one point or another she lost the grip of her sword and was now degraded to the floor but not yet weaponless. She absolutely despised it when men chose to stand over and demean her. All it did was feed the fire burning in her blue eyes. As Ryu took a step forward his sword at the ready Beatrix went back into action. She'd never be brought down easily. When his foot was inches from her hand, which was lying at her side, she unveiled the pocket knife in her firm white fingers. It wasn't much but it was something.

With a warrior's cry of being fully irate she jabbed the small blade into the middle of his boot, going clear through the suede, and into flesh.

Ryu had been calm, at least...psychotically so...but now...she'd gone too far...she was only speeding up the inevitable. They'd had a fairly honorable battle thus far...but now...things were degrading quickly. That was fine with Ryu...he was a dishonored man now anyways...he had every right to fight as dirty as possible.

"BITCH!" He roared, grabbing at his ankle, as he bent over. While one hand shot out to grab at the knife she'd so expertly dug into his foot...the other hand flew out and hit her hard across the face. That would shut her American female mouth up for the moment.

"You stupid, bitch!" His English wasn't great...but he seemed to want to speak in nothing but that. "Very...very bad move..." He hit her in the face again to make his point clearer. He stood up to his full height again, kicking away the pocket knife. He stood like that for sometime, leering over her...face twisted with some inner demented thought.

They'd had this little battle in Ryu's small studio apartment. The apartment, like Ryu himself was a degraded mess. There was food everywhere, some of it looking and smelling quite old. Trash and junk was piled everywhere. The room was small enough, that with addition of the lived in mess, there was little space left. Their battle had only caused the mess to get worse...sharp blade marks were torn into the walls...and the TV had been pushed over...glass from the broken screen was scattered around the dirty carpet. A small mouse kept running by now and then, obviously in a hissy over its calm "home' being disturbed. The only real lighting came from a halfway curtained window, the curtain being of a dingy brown/yellow stain. In a room like this, there was seemingly no night and no day...the same drab, disgustingness prevailed at all times. The only decoration was of a giant pornographic poster of a Japanese woman...well maybe girl would be a better word for her, hanging on the far wall. The poster looked as if it had been torn down and restacked up a number of times. It was hard to believe such a skilled warrior as Ryu lived in a place like this...but even the mightiest could fall.

Ryu liked to stand over this woman...her anger was only more enticing. He gave her a feral smile...which was anything but pleasant or charming. the surprise...you think you came for the kill...but...things are different now." He re-gripped his sword, and after a moment of looking it over tossed it aside. He then bent and picked up the pocket knife that the woman had so recently stabbed him with. He scrutinized the small blade, and finding it suitable to his needs, brought it around, "You were a warrior...but now...your nothing...like all women...nothing at all."

With trained skillfulness he swooped down, the sharp pocket knife blade resting up against the blonde's neck. His other hand landing firmly on top of one of her arms, his opposite elbow holding down the other arm. He walked his knees up so that they were pressing down on her thighs. He was a large man...weighing at least 220...nearly impossible to shove off, especially when he was completely worked up like this. As if this wasn't bad enough, he dipped his head down right up next to her pretty cheek. She smelled like a fresh shower and blood... He smelled...well, far from nice.

His nose pressed up against the crook in her neck, his breathing hot in her ear, "Now...I think you are starting to understand, yes?" He pushed the blade a little harder up against her neck, "You move...how I don't want you to move...and this blade in my hand is going right into your throat...very easy to do like this..." His entire body was lying across hers now, and it was very obvious that Ryu was more than ready for this. Taking the risk that she wasn't going to want to have her throat slit, he moved away his non-knife holding hand and slipped it down her shirt. "You like men now don't you? I'll do many things to you...maybe you'll like some of them..."

Beatrix was known for being scared of little to nothing. Bill scared her sometimes but that was a whole different topic. When someone chose to degrade her in such a manner as scrutinizing her as just a 'woman' that pissed her off. When someone chose to degrade her by attempting rape that scared the shit out of her. This was a situation all 'female' assassins and perhaps on very sick occasions, men tried to avoid. Of course, you'd have your whack jobs try or give reference that they wanted some but it never occurred.

Beatrix always, always tried to avoid this especially with her 'good' looks it was hard not to get into a situation. But, rarely ever did it sink this low or become this bad.

Her heart was pounding harshly against her chest and she tried to keep up a calm façade even though her mind was racing a mile a minute. She'd think of a way out of it. She always did. She was Black Mamba. But for now she was just a scared young woman trying to keep herself together. The only thing she could do was stare him down and admit a nice wad of spit in his eye when he turned to her.

Most people would flinch back at being spat upon, but Ryu didn't even seem to notice. He was far too preoccupied with his hand down her shirt to care much. The spit just ran down his cheek. He didn't attempt to kiss her...he know better. She was a warrior, she knew how to use all of her weapons very well. He seemed to enjoy the mere act of simply having her completely pushed down on the ground...each and every one of her limbs useless. She was helpless under his power and he was getting off on that more than anything else.

He remained like that for a few minutes, his head pushing painfully at the side of her face, hot breath in her ear and a roving, violating hand. He was still pressing the pocket knife blade up against her throat; a small cut had already formed underneath it. To Ryu, this was male power. He was exercising his right as a man. He had bested this woman and now knowing he could easily take her, he was going to. Call it a reward.

Finally, he sat up...his lower body still pressed firmly against hers. He stared her down, he looked utterly vile and perverted. She was staring back at him with silent cold fury. This made him laugh, and he did...revealing a set of not so straight nor white teeth. "Your anger is wasted...you should just give up now...in awhile, it will be over." He flipped his handgrip on the pocket knife, so that the tip of the blade was pointing directly into her throat, "Now...take your pants off...or I stick this into your throat, before I stick this..." he grabbed at himself, which he obviously found a good amount of pleasure in doing. When she didn't move, his look intensified, "DO IT!" He snarled, pressing the sharp blade tip slightly into her skin.

The tall blonde was beginning to perspire, her breathing was becoming rapid and panicked, and her heart beat felt as though it'd bang right through her chest. She was starting to lose it, she never lost it. There was one occasion back when she first began training but back then she had a right to lose it and now she had ultimately no right. Somehow, she couldn't even recall how this man got the upper hand but he did and she was paying for it. A careless mistake or perhaps she wasn't that good. Beatrix never doubted herself or her killing abilities but right now she doubted. And with this self doubt she brought self pity which was only leading to hysterics. Glossy, fearful, and irate blue eyes darted around the small area franticly for anything she could try and use as a weapon to defend herself. Nothing.

There was nothing and she was nothing. She wasn't the deadliest woman in the world; she was a 'normal' woman fearful for her dignity. She gulped down the lump in her throat and answered in a hoarse whisper, "I can't...These...they're tight pants...I need to stand..." The full out truth. She was clad in a pair of tight blue jeans. But that didn't mean she could still make one more fleeting attempt.

Ryu was not a reasonable person in a reasonable state...her perfectly reasonable explanation seemed completely crazy to him. "Bullshit!" He hissed, hitting her in the face again...the knife point digging further into her throat. "You're a lying bitch...I'm not letting you stand up..." He shifted slightly, and with one long motion moved the knife away from her throat and began slicing down the one leg of her pants. It was a sloppy cut, nicking her skin all the way down. While he was doing this, his free hand, clasped around her throat...his fingers digging into her skin with bruising pressure.

When Ryu had successfully ripped the entire side on one of the legs on the woman's jeans...he switched to the other side...slashing away with that same frantic carelessness. Finally, after a few agonizing...humiliating minutes, Ryu threw aside the remainder of what was once a nice pair of jeans. He then turned back to her, and resumed pressing the knife against her throat. He was obviously very excited now that he could see more of her flesh. There were numerous small knife cuts all over her legs now...but Ryu seemed to find that a good thing. He pressed down hard on her, a hand grasping at her thigh. "Take the rest off..." he groaned in her ear. He seemed to want to see her do this...

Beatrix was never scared but right now she was terrified. She'd prefer participating in a gore fest over coming close to anything like this. This degraded any woman to the point of feeling lower then a piece of shit. All men were well aware they had dominance over any woman no matter how strong willed it just depended on how they chose to exploit this dominance. Too many took advantage.

Her wall that took a life time to make was crumbling in a matter of seconds. The fact that Beatrix was allowing herself to become so worked up and corrupted like this made her stomach churn. This wasn't who she was nor who she wanted to be. She was no woman that shivered in a dark corner because her pride was being stolen. She fought back, pushed it aside, and pretended it never happened, the perfect tactic of mind over body. But, she couldn't do it. Her body was panicking. She was forming full fledged tears in those pretty blue eyes and she was shaking her head vigorously 'no' to his demands.

Another hit to the face and the stinging sensation of a forming black eye brought on the tears. She tilted her head a little to the side and now able to use her hands she began to slowly drift down to her lower regions. This was it, she couldn't fight back, she couldn't do anything. She was helpless.

Just when she was about to give up everything and completely submit she spotted through her blurry vision a glint of metal sparkling under a filthy box of left over pizza a hand stretch away.

That hysterically crying little girl was put on hold and Beatrix Kiddo wiped her traveling hand out to snatch up the item from beneath the box. A metal butter knife.

Before Ryu had time to stop self indulging by pressing his body down even harder, Beatrix let out a warrior's cry mixed with her own emotional turmoil and brought the makeshift weapon around and she thrust it deep into his back.

Ryu let out a scream of pain. A dull butter knife, when thrust hard stab...and this was most definitely thrust hard enough to stab. He reared up, a hand reaching around to pull out the knife that had embedded itself a good inch into his back. He yanked it out with another yowl. Once he had the bloody tipped knife in his hand, he turned back on the blonde warrior.

She thought she was so smart...that was not smart...now, she was going to be dead. "Very...very...bad idea..." Ryu gasped, eyes ablaze with murderous intentions. He tried to jab down at her with the knife, but she was alive again...somehow...and she blocked his arm...hitting a nerve point and sending the knife flying out of his hand.

He snarled in frustration. He still had her pinned down with his lower body, and he wasn't about to let her go that easily. Balling up a fist, he smashed her right in her already busied and bloody face. If he couldn't have her...then he was going to beat her to death...

Beatrix had miraculously gained back the upper hand. Well, not entirely but enough that her heart was beating at a much healthier pace. She took the hit and her head bounced back against the carpet. The knife had fallen out of reach and unless she could think of a clever way to use a crusty pizza box she was out of options.

But she had gained an upper hand and she had to keep some of it or she'd be right back in that place where she didn't want to be. She had to use her head...? Her jaw clenched closed and as Ryu's hand came in for another heinous punch she craned her neck all the way to the side so he hit the ground.

Unfortunately it wasn't a hard enough impact to break it. But he was coming back in and Black Mamba was ready. She lifted her head up a few inches from the ground and with one sharp motion forward she smashed the butt of her forehead into his.

A head butt was something of a manly maneuver, but even the manliest of men had a hard time taking it...let alone executing it, without reeling. Ryu made a small chocking noise, as both hands instinctively went up to grab at his forehead, which felt like it had been cracked open. His expression was something between complete shock and a near epileptic attack...as his eyes began to roll back into his head. While doing this, he let off a good amount of pressure he had been forcing on Beatrix's body. He had to turn to the side in an attempt to stop his spinning head. In doing so, he gave her a precious number of seconds for a second attack.

The amount of pressure that was finally released gave Beatrix the leverage she needed. Without hesitation she bent her knee and made sharp contact into his groin. A cheap shot but if anyone deserved it was him. As Ryu yelled out and doubled over in excruciating pain Beatrix sprang up.

On hands and knees she stretched out and snatched up the fallen butter knife. With effortless ease crawled on her knees and up beside the fallen pervert. Blue eyes glowing with ultimate killer instincts and a façade so vacant of expression one could find it creepy. Without any hesitation she lifted up the butter knife and brought it down quick and accurately into Ryu's temple. She held it deeply embedded into the side of his skull as his body jerked and sputtered in his last breaths of air and dying motor skills.

Her target was dead. It was over. She could breathe again but she didn't breath, she took a crawl backwards away from the dead body and collapsed against the edge of the bed. Her face was bruised, bloodied, and her eyes were puffy. She leaned her head back against the base of the bed and screamed out. This was no warrior cry but a cry for herself and how close she came to losing it. She was so strong, so thick skinned, and when that cracked Beatrix almost wished she had no feelings at all. Of course, she could block it out when she had to. But she could only block it out for so long. Beatrix held a love hate relationship with the idea of 'zen' and the perfection of gaining complete control over your emotions. If she hadn't gone into the deepest recesses of her mind and hid, she'd never have gotten out of this alive, as well as numerous other assignments. A vivid attempt of mind over body but that didn't support the aftermath. The aftermath of crying, shriveling up, and becoming vulnerable. After realizing what she held back and the on rush of emotions she had hidden was unbearable at times. It was unhealthy to lock feelings up forever but was it healthy to let them all out? At least she had privacy and never showed this 'aftermath' in front of anyone.

A good twenty minutes passed and she finally ceased. The fight was over, the target was dead, the emotions were out, the tears were shed, the lesson was learned, and she could go home.

When Nikishi answered the door she had been expecting Beatrix, but she hadn't been expecting Beatrix to look like she did. The blonde warrior rarely took such a beating to her pretty face. The shorter Japanese woman quickly recovered herself and regained her calm facade. "Bill is in the back," she said softly, gesturing to the back patio area and walking with the taller woman up until the living room. Then, she turned and went back to some odd task or another.

Bill was indeed in the back. He was standing barefoot on the stone steps leading up onto the now very familiar Oriental courtyard/garden. His back was slightly turned as Beatrix approached. His Hanzo sword was in his hand, and he appeared to be carefully scrutinizing the hilt of it. Bill was incredibly protective with the weapon and babied it like a deadly child of sorts. Over his typical black pants he was wearing a hideously ugly button up western style shirt that looked like a true throwback from the 70's.

"Hey Kiddo, I-" he turned to look at her. An expression of light interest was suddenly replaced with utmost concern and anger. "Jesus," he murmured, eyes widening momentarily. Her face looked like a train wreck...and he rarely said that about Beatrix. She had two black eyes, numerous healing cuts and deep bruises on her normally flawless face.

Bill bent, laid his sword down on the stairs and then took a few long strides towards her. She was a killer, she was trained to endure such things...she had in the past and no doubt she would again. But, that didn't mean he had to like it. Bill was an admirer of female beauty, a connoisseur of sorts. He'd been that way ever since he was a little boy. It wasn't just typical male tendencies; it was more than that...as if he put female beauty on an unreachable pedestal. He continually doused it with affection and favoritism. Now, to see his favorite woman...it could even be said...his woman, like this...well, it fucking pissed him off!

He met Beatrix with two hands on her shoulders. "What happened?" He asked the concern evident in his voice as well as his face. He was concerned for her, yes...but he was also concerned about the mission. Something could have gone wrong...it was important he know. He could only hope that she would tell the truth.

There was an edginess in her puffy eyes, something glazed over...and he tentatively laid a caring hand on her bruised cheek. She flinched, just barely at this contact. Bill's gaze darkened. Something wasn't right.

Beatrix let him touch her but not for long. She soon enough took a step back and away from any caring hands. She didn't want psychical contact or a dose of sympathy. It was cruel to reject Bill when he was trying to display a caring side but it didn't cross her mind. For all she knew her body could be yearning for sympathetic touches and all she was doing was being cruel to herself.

She didn't want to look at him, his face with that hard edged frown but she did. It would only warrant his concern and make it harder for her to get the 'truth' out about what happened.

Beatrix almost always had an easy time telling the truth when it came down to assignments. Assignments were general topics. Either they were a success or fell short of one. This assignment fell very short. She began in a calm but not overly calm tone, she was a master when it came to lying, "The target was a challenge." She gave a shrug as if it were no big deal. "He gained the upper hand at a point and beat me down," literally. Her face hurt like a bitch and healing it only hurt more. Like Bill she favored her face, not to the same point but like any person she took good care of it and when it was hurt, she wasn't happy. "I took it back eventually and stuck a butter knife in his temple. He's dead." She paused. "All is right in the world."

Bill settled his hands in his pockets as she stepped away. He couldn't deny it, he wanted to shower her with tender affection...but she didn't want that. She was never one to really need such things in times like this, he knew that. He also knew that she never really needed him for such things. It was a hard pill to swallow, for even hard bastards liked to be needed now and again, but it was the truth and he had to respect that. Beatrix Kiddo was her own woman, and unlike some other women, she didn't need a man to quantify that fact. Bill tilted his head to the side, eyes softening a little above the typical frown as he listened to her short explanation. As always, he never interrupted, it was rude and uncouth. But he watched in silent concern.

When she had finished, he shook his head, "All is not right in the world Kiddo," he knew she was just making a closing statement, but Bill often couldn't help himself, "If the world is in fact...still the world, then it will never be right." He waved a hand dismissing his typical randomness, "This asshole was ex-yakuza...he was good with a sword. Yet, you appear to have bested him in that category, but he managed to beat your face in...shameful turn of events..." a purse of the lips at how angry that still made him, especially looking at her closer now, "Looks like you head butted him," he gestured to the trademark bruise at the top her forehead, "That was a nice touch."

He let out a breath, crossing his arms. With Beatrix, the truth was immensely complicated. She was an impeccable lair, but so was he. And being an impeccable liar also qualified you to be able to pick the faintest lie out, even within a stack of solid truths. But, Bill was wary of trying to pick apart these two things when it came to Beatrix. She was simply too good...and he found it easier, for now, to let it all go. Besides, the target was eliminated...brutally so, the assignment was a success. She would have no reason to lie to him really. The only tarnishing point was her wounded face. Bill was vain for her face, because he was so not so for himself. There was more wrong with her than a beaten face, he could just sense it. But there was no point in prodding. Right now, especially, she was as thick skinned and unreachable as himself. He was through with trying to reach out and ask her such things. If she wanted to tell him, she would...although that was highly unlikely.

"Well," he said finally, "...that's good to hear. I knew you could handle this target. I'll consider the assignment a success then. A job well done."

Beatrix gave a tight nod and a tart thank you. She honestly was thankful that he didn't prod her on this one. She would never ever tell him what really happened. That she was bested beyond the point of a simple hand to hand combat. If he found out of course he'd feel sorry for her and then she'd take that as a hint to endure self pity. She'd pity herself for being put in that situation. Arms crossed over her chest as uneasy silence grated through the area. The soft melody of various birds echoed around the trees. She finally spoke up in an overly softened tone, "I just came to give you the...good news. I'm gonna head back home and stick my head in the freezer a few more times." If she was in a better mood she would have smirked or found an inner laugh at that but right now she was far from it.

Bill allowed a brief smirk at her freezer comment. But he was still put off by whatever nagging darkness was causing her to be so...melancholy. It wasn't like she was miss hyper happy go lucky...but she was being far from herself. Beatrix, if anybody easily bounced back after assignments.

He frowned, "You're a fucking pain in the ass. Come on Kiddo." he took her gently by the elbow and began to walk her into the house, "That freezer thing...I don't recommend it all that often actually," he talked, as they strolled across the backyard, "You'll ruin your skin...suck all the moisture out and end up looking like me before too long," he offered a wry grin, "Let's get you something a little more effective."

Once inside the kitchen, Bill incidentally opened the freezer. He then removed an ice pack...one of the types professional athletes tended to use. A nice nylon covering enclosed the pack of ice, lessening the amount of trauma to one's skin. A small cap on one end allowed it to be refilled easily. He turned and handed it to Beatrix, "Here...take this." While she took it and began to apply it to her face Bill busied himself with making tea at the far counter, his back to her. She was utterly silent the entire time.

Once finished, Bill handed her one of the two ceramic Oriental style cups. It was hot tea of an unknown variety. Bill had some pretty bizarre tea flavors on hand. He leaned up against the counter, cup in hand...intense look fixated on her, "I always drink this when I feel like shit. I don't know if it really helps, but I try to pretend it does." He raised an eyebrow as well as his cup, in a silent toast and then took a long drink.

Beatrix raised both brows questionably and with her free hand that wasn't occupied with the ice pack she took a sip of the tea. She made a coughing gag and set the ceramic mug back on the counter with a loud thud. Her features contorted into disgust. "That...tastes like shit." She pushed the mug back across to his side of the counter.

She was never big on tea, she preferred coffee but she could go for a good cup of tea every now and then. That was not a good cup of tea. She nonchalantly slipped onto the bar stool, one elbow bent on the table and cupping the ice pack gingerly to her bruised facial features, and the other folded on the surface. Blue eyes settled on Bill. "Don't even try to convince me to drink any more of that."

Bill frowned, "You wound me," he replied dryly setting his own now empty cup down. "It's not supposed to be good...it's supposed to be healing." He picked up her cup and drowned it in one long sip, before setting it down back on the counter. "Not all positive things are entirely pleasing," he murmured, not being able to stop himself and try to convince her at least a little. But there was no reaction from her at all. "Fine...fine," he waved a hand, crossing to the other side of the kitchen, where there was already a pot of coffee sitting halfway emptied. There was always at least somebody at Bill's place that drank coffee; it was a necessity to have at the ready. He poured coffee into her now empty cup and brought it over to her.

"There," he set it down on the counter in front of her folded arm. He then sat himself down on the stool next to her, arms resting on the counter. He picked up a pad of blank post it notes that had been sitting there, and flipped the pad of paper back and forth between his fingers a few times. "So...Kiddo...what's the deal?" He asked suddenly. He of course knew better, he'd just sworn to himself he wasn't going to peruse the former topic. But...Bill was persistent. "Unless it's a woman thing...and in that case, I don't want to know."

Beatrix was idly sipping from her mug of coffee which she was expectedly happier with. She lowered it and peered over the rim at him. Maybe she could do something to cheer herself up. Bill opened up an option. Her devilish tinted smirk was hidden behind the mug she held just above her nose. "I'm PMSing so just don't do anything. It may send me off the handle," she replied flatly but blue eyes twinkled with a spark of amusement. That was a lie too but Bill didn't know any better and it was an easy way to cover up her current mood.

"Oh...fuck," Bill grumbled darkly, instantly regretting he had even asked that question. "Well..." he gave her a quick glance, "I appreciate the warning...for my own safety." Having worked with women for so long, Bill was very aware of the deadly combination of PMSing female assassins. Normal women were bad enough...killer women...well, that was something else entirely. They did vile things. And it was always his luck that all of them were that way at the same time...like a bunch of irate irritable banshees ready to tear apart anything that moved or looked at them the wrong way. Knowing this bit of new information, Bill wisely let any further prodding on that subject completely drop.

They sat in complete silent for a few more minutes. Bill was not one to mind silence, nor find it uncomfortable. But right now, Beatrix's whole demeanor caused it to be so. Finally, he spoke up, "Perhaps its best you go home and get some down time in." He gestured towards the ice pack, "Keep that." A pause, "I'd hate to see that face of yours scarred up." Superficial, but true.

"I appreciate that," she said and rose from the stool. Of course she completely agreed with him. She'd hate to get her pretty face scared up and that's why she was taking extra good care of it. She was even using some that shitty scar cream that evidently was working. She turned to the hallway but gave him a side glance over her shoulder. "See ya later, Bill."


	4. The Love Shack

**Chapter 36: **_The Love Shack_

A week or so later.

It had been a typical "summons." Bill had called Beatrix with a new assignment and she headed over to his place to get the details. Bill had sounded his typical annoyingly calm self on the phone. There seemed to be nothing out of sorts. But, apparently something had happened in the short ten minutes or so it had taken Beatrix to get to his place. When Nikishi answered the door, she looked a little rumpled...which was saying a lot, because she was a pretty hardy woman. She looked up at the tall blonde with thin lips. "You better go talk to Bill, Beatrix..." she lowered her voice, "He's not happy...at all." With that, she scuttled away...far away no doubt. She'd been around Bill long enough to know when the man's righteously nasty temper was about to flare up.

Upon entering the backyard it was easy to spot Bill. He was pacing around the raised courtyard; arms crossed...his cell phone clutched in one hand. Once again barefoot and black panted, but at least he'd lost that revolting 70's western shirt, to something more typical of his attire. His hair was a little tussled, and one look at him and it was easy to tell he was irate. The posture, the facial expression...the very air around him...

He spun at the first sight of Beatrix on the lawn. His expression was rather unsettling. "KIDDO!" He pointed to the ground, at a spot a few feet from him, "HERE! NOW!" Bill rarely yelled, but when he did...it was more than a little scary.

Beatrix stood in the patio doorway with a classic expression that read; what the fuck did I do? She was clad in a pair of black tinted jeans and an off white v-neck t-shirt with a pair of blue strapped sandals. Those locks of blonde hair were down to veil against her face and drape against her shoulders. Her face looked considerably better, the swelling had dissipated, bruises were fading, and the radiant red marks were now mere thin pink lines along her softened skin. All in all she was healing nicely and her ego was healing just as well. Considering everything that had happened in the past week Beatrix was able to go back to the way things were but acquired a thicker layer of skin along the way.

She cringed at Bill's alarming tone of voice. She didn't want to further fume that anger and as an obedient dog she came directly to the spot he pointed at. Her expression was well composed as she stared at him, utter confusion evident in her eyes. "Yes, Bill?"

Beatrix's obedience didn't seem to have any effect on Bill's anger, in fact...he only seemed to get more angry upon her closer presence. He stood in his spot, simply staring at her for at least thirty seconds...his brown eyes drilling into hers with an almost limitless amount of hostility. His right hand was clutched so tightly around his cell phone, the poor piece of machinery seemed lucky to still be intact in that grip. At times like this, it almost seemed as if Bill had the ability to not blink at all...finally, his frozen features moved.

"Do you remember," He began in a tight, barely controlled tone of voice,"...that little assignment I sent you on...oh...let's say about a month or so ago? Hrm? A woman...about your age...I don't even remember her fucking name...and her daughter?" He didn't even give Beatrix time to respond, "Yes, of course you do...because you didn't finish it!" With that, he turned and threw the cell phone off the edge of the courtyard, where it landed with a "plump" in the Japanese fountain nearby.

Now, without anything to clutch onto...Bill was forced to cross his arms, "Well...I just received a phone call. It seems that bitch you should have killed, turned around and hired a hit man...who in turn killed the father of her child...and MY FUCKING client!" He darted out a hand, pointing it at Beatrix, "Not just any fucking client Kiddo...but one of my best, if not the best one I've ever had. Can you begin to understand what a loss this is to me?" He snarled, "Maybe you don't...because obviously you don't seem to care...because if you did...you would have gone through with the goddamn assignment!" Looking a little flushed, Bill threw his hands up, making a small pivot in exasperation, "JESUS CHRIST! If I had sent anybody," the finger point again, closer to her face, "ANYBODY...else...this wouldn't have happened! But no," he sneered, revealing a wolfish grin, "I had to send...Miss Beatrix Bleeding Heart Kiddo..." his voice dropped into a pit of complete sarcasm, "...the deadliest woman in the world...and my best assassin." His head titled to the side, in an equally sarcastic gesture.

Beatrix held back an action to bite his fucking finger off, the one that kept on dauntingly pointing at her and being overly dramatic. For once Beatrix was holding more control then Bill was. Her expression was calm, although blue eyes flashed, and her arms were casually stuck to her sides. As emotionless as her façade came she was brimming on the inside. She was baffled that the woman had gone and called a goddamn hit man. Hadn't she told her to get out of town? Apparently she didn't take her advice. Bitch. Now Beatrix was left with repercussions.

What really irked the tall blonde was Bill's continued mocking of names and complete lack of...anything. This was Bill at his finest. She didn't want that. Thank God this had to happen today and not last week. She wouldn't have been able to handle this as she was currently in the process of doing. It would have been too much but now, with that thickened layer, she could take it.

Her lips tightened and she finally spoke up, slowly but with added malice, "I can't say I'm sorry, I can't reprimand my actions," her eyes narrowed in on him, "And I can not ask for mercy." A heart beat. "I have nothing to say."

Bill visibly clenched his teeth. "Oh no! You're not going to play that "say nothing" card this time Kiddo!" He took a threatening step towards her, "I want you...RIGHT NOW...to explain yourself in plain fucking English!" Yes, Bill generally was a calm person...in that killing bastard sort of way, but right now...he was out of control. When he was younger...when he lacked so much control, he had done some heinous things under the direction of his currently flaring temper. As the years had progressed, he had learned means to become calmer...more in tune with himself, but it was not a flawless system. At times, like now...it broke down...and the true murdering asshole came out. This was the man that had first learned how to handle women from a pimp...

"No lies! No vague explanations!" He roared in her face, "Your fucking idiotic act is what made me lose this client! And you owe me more than a simple...apology. You get no mercy and your not getting let off...not this time...your going to talk to me..." He grabbed her by the collar, a rare move for Bill...and gave her a small shake, "Start talking." he hissed in a deadly whisper.

Point taken, Beatrix could only keep her own aspect of control for so long. She was never good at it to begin with and when she attempted to gain an upper hand in that area, if she lost it she lost it fast. Her pretty blue eyes flashed with ultimate enmity. "First, get your fucking hands off me," she stated in an overly slow and appalled tone. She put a hand around his forearm and pushed it down and away from her with distinguished strength, even if he was already letting off.

Beatrix tenderly stroked her hands over her shirt to get out the wrinkles as she took her dandy time coming up with a reply. She didn't do this just to irk him, she really was thinking. Her eyes leveled back to him. Electric sparks admitted between their daunting eye lock. "I explained myself already," she began coolly but her tone was laced with fire. She didn't know why the fuck she had to explain herself to him when he never explained himself to her. Fuck the employee/boss aspect of it. "I couldn't do it. I'm a bleeding heart. And, that part of me...that part you are utterly furious at, that's the part that is never gonna change." She took a threatening step forwards, the tips of their toes touching but upper bodies didn't meet. "I will always be one step below you and I will never step over that line that puts me at your level. You can either accept that...or...not. I won't change."

Bill raised his chin in a trademark haughty expression. "A bleeding heart assassin...well isn't that just an interesting paradox now isn't it?" His fists were balled up at his sides, in an obvious effort not to lay his 'fucking' hands on her again. He'd hit women before without prior physical provocation, and right now...he would have no problem doing it again.

He raised a flippant eyebrow, "At my level...and what prey tell is...my level?" He was taunting her, that much was obvious. "If you can't step up to this supposed level, then what the fuck exactly are you doing working for me?" That was low, and he knew it...a sneer crossed his face...not breaking their staring war. "You say you hate all these things about me...and yet...your still here aren't you? Well, isn't that just fucking strange Kiddo! You really are confused...You know," his voice dropped again, "...those five years ago...when I first saw you...I knew what you could be...and now here you stand almost there. Yet, you say you won't step up...you wont' change..." He pushed a finger into her shoulder, further taunting her, "You have nobody but yourself to blame for that...I can't do anymore...and I won't accept that you can't become what I want you to be." His eyes narrowed threateningly, "Nobody does that to me and lives..."

Beatrix's staring war of hostility had been flipped over to a stare of surprise. Her jaw unhinged and she felt herself morally wounded. How the fuck could he say that to her? Well, of course he 'could' say it but she never thought he would, or could say that to her. It hurt and she masked it over with a hard demeanor and hateful eyes but as much as she tried dangerous emotions were seeping through.

She did the only thing she could think of, she stepped away. She recoiled from him, not out of fear. He was mad at her, irate, furious, pissed off beyond recognition, she understood that but she also understood that he was over reacting. He'd never hit her, he'd never harm her, he wouldn't dare.

She pursed her lips and regained herself. "I...can't become what you want and I...am...sorry if you can't accept that. But, when all is said and done do you really want me to be what you want?" She raised both brows challengingly. "Think about it, Bill. Think...real...hard."

"No I don't!" Bill shouted, before he really had time to think about what he was saying...he said it so quickly, it didn't have time pass through his usual detached intellectual filter...it was a completely raw statement. He looked a little shocked with himself for a split second, but he was too riled up to stop now, "And I hope you never do!" He kept shouting, because he was afraid to speak any lower, "...because...if you became what I needed you to become then I wouldn't l-" He bit down on his words, snarling.

With that he turned away violently, and flung himself at the nearby sword rack. He yanked out one of the wooden practice swords with a scary amount of viciousness, but he didn't turn towards Beatrix with the weapon. Instead, taking the sword in hand, he literally swung it at the entire rack, easily smashing the whole thing down. Happy with those results, he then threw the sword at the nearby shed...which it hit with a loud thud.

"Goddamn you Kiddo!" He turned on her, with a wild look, "Do you think I haven't fucking thought about it?"

The tall blonde was keeping calm, overly calm but she was slowly fading down. The sword in his hand even though it was wood still held a threat to her. Even when she was angry it was never good for her to have a weapon in check. A weapon could project further anger and hostility in areas that didn't deserve them.

She wanted to take another step back and away from...this...man. But that would show she was fearful of him and that would give him an unnecessary satisfaction. She held her ground and started, "You obviously haven't thought enough because if you had you would be able to see the irrational logic in your decision." She felt like a snake trying to coax a rabbit out of its hole. The rabbit wasn't that stupid and the snake was far from that itself, it making it a lose/lose situation. Beatrix's calm facade was only irritating him further.

"Irrational decision?" Bill breathed, through rasps of angry breaths, "Well of course it's irrational...where did I ever say it was rational? Because if I did, please do point it out to me...a little rationality would be quite nice at the moment." How could he explain how he felt? He could...but the words were too hard to say...it was simply too much of a risk. It was far easier to be a fucking asshole about it.

"Oh," he raised a dangerous eyebrow, finger waving again, "I think I've thought enough about it...longer than you'll ever know...longer than you've realized...and...sometimes I wonder, longer than you've deserved." He wanted to get a reaction out of her, anything...he'd take anything at this moment...

"I..." he took a step back, hand in front of him, "...don't think you...of all people have any right to tell me about irrationality."

Beatrix had to regroup a moment. How the fuck had all this started? How did a simple...well...not simple quarrel of views become such a cruel exchange of words? Everything he was saying, every signal ounce of it wasn't just because he was pissed off at her about the assignment, an assignment that happened a month ago, it was something more...much more. She couldn't fathom what it was and that made her blood boil.

She cracked her knuckles at her sides and blinked hard. Now that she could see more clearly she could give him the reaction that he didn't want. She wasn't going to yell back, that was below her manner of dealing with things now that she was...older. "Of course," she didn't move or raise her voice. "The rational should never try to argue the irrational."

Bill threw his hands up, she was driving him fucking crazy with her little placid attitude.

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He laughed, a short bitter laugh, "Oh, wait...scratch that...you're not going to give me a straight answer anyways. You," his eyes widened briefly, "...Kiddo...are a pathological liar, more than I think even I will ever hope to be. Congratulations! In that account, you're a step higher..." he clapped his hands loudly in front of her face, making every attempt to piss her off.

He then waved an angry hand, "Fuck you..." he turned his back on her, heading for the shed...for who knew what reasons, "I'm done with this..."

That, that pissed her off. "You. Fucking. Asshole," she grated through one breath. Beatrix then took off after him, following at his heels. "You say, you do all of that and your just walking away!" She exclaimed. This confused the hell out of her. Usually it was the woman that walked away in a fit.

She took two long strides and cut him off before he reached the shed door and blocked his entrance. Her blue eyes were ablaze with cold fury. "You're not done with this." Any bit of a placid demeanor she was holding earlier was a thing of the past. "You can't walk away like---this! Not after you, taunted, degraded, ripped apart, corrupted, and fucked me over like that," This time she pointed the finger. "No goddamn fucking way."

A small satisfied smirk crossed Bill's face...finally, she'd cracked and it was damn good to see. He made sure she saw him gloat for a good few seconds placing the most sneering smirk he could possibly pull on his face.

"I can walk away from you whenever and however I want to...not to mention do whatever the fuck I want to do." He stared her down. He hated being cut off...goddamnit...that really pissed him off. A hand snapped up and gripped her wrist which was barring his way across the door...his grip painfully hard. "Now, move...out of my way...or I'll move you myself..." To emphasize this, he tightened his grip. "And believe me Kiddo...I will move you in a far from gentle manner," he fixed her with a blistering glare, "You can go fuck yourself, because as I said before...I have nothing else to say to you..." It seemed Bill's outright rage had been replaced by a more typical but far more venomous cold anger, at least, for the moment.

Beatrix wasn't about to play the 'oh, now look who's playing the say nothing card' when he had said far more than she had. So, she took the next plan of action. She didn't move and she didn't make any signs that he was hurting her. She kept a firm façade and blue eyes returned the stare down. Bill had been given the satisfactory feeling that he had gotten to her and effectively so but he was not going to get her to move.

A venomous smile tugged at her taut lips, her chin tilted up, and she breathed, "No," and with the highest amount of pride in her voice she reinstated, "I won't move."

Bill's chin tilted down towards his chest, as he fixed her with a sharp glare. An amused smirk touched his face. So, she wanted to play this little game...well...fine...but he wasn't about to hold back...not one bit. "Have it your way Kiddo..." he whispered and before she had time to react, he bent down and slammed a shoulder into her midsection. Driving forward, he scooped her up onto his shoulder, in a standard fireman's type of carry. As he continued to step into the shed, she was forced to let go of the doorframe. He knew carrying her like this for longer than a few seconds would allow her time to get a good shot at him. So, pivoting slightly, he slammed her back first onto the ground...the move looking like something off of cheesy television wrestling.

She landed hard on her back, and Bill wisely took a few steps away from her...knowing full well what she would probably do next. She wouldn't get away with that this time. He began walking in a slow circle around her, like some bloodthirsty shark measuring up its prey. "Back down on the ground...yet again..." he chuckled, again knowing exactly how to press those buttons of hers.

Beatrix stayed on the ground, blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, and her cheeks puffed out as she took exasperated breathe. Bill had gotten her on the floor numerous times during training and she never liked it but with her current dilemmas she hated it far more than before. She rolled over onto her side and using her hands pushed her upper body off the ground. Her face was beginning to gleam with sweat and trickled down the curves of her neck. Her gaze watched him steadily and cautiously as he circled, investigating his intentions. If he wanted to play dirty then she'd more than happily play along.

The tall blonde warrior darted up to her feet and without any invitation she came at him with a demonstration of kung-fu mixed with street fighting. Bill evaded them easily and Beatrix had to back off a moment. She was letting anger control her actions. And if she continued to allow so she wouldn't get anywhere. Fists clenched at her sides as she waited for him to come in if he choose to. She didn't want to fight, she didn't want to argue but he gave her no choice. Bastard.

It was almost as if Bill was looking for an excuse to fight, and her actions more than easily gave him that. He threw a few kicks at her head, but she was far too tall...and he couldn't kick as high as he used to be able to...she easily dodged them all. He changed angles and came at her with a flurry of kung fu techniques: claws at her eyes, randomly angled punches, elbows...a knee to her chest...she easily blocked these with her own limbs. He did manage to hit her on the side with a palm strike, but it was a minor hit.

Falling back, hands moving gracefully in front of him in traditional kung fu style, Bill watched her closely. He looked completely fired up. There was a dangerous spark behind his intense look. "If you not going to properly fight me..." he breathed with increasing speed, "Then I'm just going to be forced to kick your ass." He wiped a sheen of sweat off of his face, falling into a smirk. "And I assure you, for me, that's going to be quite pleasurable."

What boggled Beatrix in the first place was why he wanted to fight her. Botching that assignment was a reason to be upset with her but not to full out want to harm her. Bill had something up his ass, she knew it but she couldn't place it. She used the back of her hand to wipe away her own gleams of sweat. The last thing she wanted was her ass kicked when in her mind she didn't deserve it. She couldn't allow it. Being the tactful, trained killer she was meant to be, she came into her display of tiger-crane style and pushed all emotions to the darker regions of her mind. Blue eyes flashed and she didn't mutter a word. When Beatrix was really pissed off she didn't speak or not many words were exchanged between herself and her opponent.

Her lips tightened and she shook her head gravely at his actions. A second passed before she came back at him with a bout of high kicks and slashing. Bill blocked most and the ones she did manage to connect weren't worthy of a flinch. Finally she came back around to face him and delivered a spin house kick to his gut, this time she connected.

Bill doubled over, clutching at his stomach...there was nothing to do be done about that, he just had to deal. He took a few quick breaths, attempting to take in some lost air, and stood up, a hand still wrapped around his stomach.

He chuckled; apparently amused he'd just been kicked in the gut. But the smile dropped, and suddenly he was completely intense. He came at her very quickly, his punches rapid and with a sense of true purpose. Luckily, Beatrix was damn good and she blocked all of them...because if she hadn't...it could have gotten ugly. With directed strikes, he began driving her back...it wasn't because he was necessarily better; it was simply a matter of intensity. With the right amount of intensity you could drive nearly anybody back at your whim.

That smoldering glint in his eye that had been there before was only intensifying but it wasn't the typical murderous glint, it was something else and it was beginning to take over the anger that had been there before.

The inevitable happened, and Beatrix's back slammed into the wall...luckily there was a training mat resting up against the wall, that padded part of her back as it connected with the hard wood.

Bill threw one more punch and he stopped in mere millimeters in front of her nose. "Gotcha," he breathed in a husky tone, blazing look fixated upon her.

Beatrix blinked hard seconds after his fist stopped. She had almost expected him to go through with the punch and that probably been the only reason she flinched or in this case blinked. Blue eyes peered past his balled up fist to search his cold and hard brown eyes. She wasn't sure what she was searching for but there was something beyond his hostile actions and murderous glints and she couldn't find it.

It was driving her fucking crazy. The mere fact that he was showing her something that he had never shown her before and she couldn't figure out what the hell it was. Her chest heaved up and down with labored breaths, her angelic and yet deadly features were coated with a thick gloss of sweat, and her temperature was bitterly chilly. No more fighting, she didn't want to. Yes, she was irate with him but that wasn't getting them anywhere. "What," she breathed through her gasping breaths, "Are you trying to do?"

Bill's hand, the one that had been frozen in midair in front of her face, moved behind her head and planted flat palmed against the wall. Like Beatrix, his face was covered in a layer of sweat, his hair falling across his face. His breathing was equally as labored and a good amount of sweat was showing through his shirt. He continued to watch her in silence for a few seconds.

And then, Bill did a complete 180. Every ounce of anger and hostility melted away and became replaced with complete adoration and wanting. His hard brown eyes now looked almost, well deep and soulful for lack of better words. He slid closer to her, so that he was pressed up against her...not forcefully, Beatrix would never have that, but wantingly.

He leaned in, so that his face was mere inches from hers. "I'm trying..." he whispered, looking completely intoxicated, "...to tell you that, despite all my best efforts to not be so, I'm desperately in love with you...Beatrix Kiddo...," a gentle smile, completely devoid of any prior venom or sarcasm, "...I think I have been for longer than I was first willing to admit..." He continued to whisper to her in a barely audible voice, as if the walls themselves had ears, and what he had to say was for her...and her only. "...I've never loved anybody as much as I do you...that's the absolute truth. And, as you can see...I have no idea how to handle it...being an asshole was the only way I could manage to keep sane...and...I'm sorry for what I've done and said to you...all of it...every single word...every single action..." Needless to say, this was a once in a lifetime sort of confession for Bill. He leaned his sweaty forehead against her own, shutting his eyes, he kept speaking, "I know I'm a real dick...a bastard, a miserable fucker...but that's what I am Kiddo...and I don't expect you to feel the same way towards me...but...I had to tell you this...or I was going to go crazy...I was just going to keep hurting you in a pathetic attempt to tell you that I love you. I had...to stop that cycle...and I have chosen to stop it now...at this very moment..."

With that last word, he quickly closed the miniscule distance between their two faces and kissed her deeply. With this kiss it was as if all the rage and hostility he had been displaying earlier had really been intended for this action. His intentions had been misplaced before, and now they were in their right place. He learned into her...he knew she was either going to love this or hate this...and he would know which one very soon.

Whoever the fuck came up with the saying 'you only hurt the ones you love' was really onto something. Beatrix was between the point of hating and loving this. The first day she had placed her lips to his she knew she'd be a whore for those kisses, no matter the circumstance. In this case, she raised her hand inches from his cheek in an attempt to slap him. This would have been the logical choice but instead she simply laid an open palm against his face and pushed into the kiss.

Beatrix made sure this kiss lasted because in the process she went through a major thought process. She knew he was up to something but she never fathomed it to be this. Perhaps his intentions were misplaced but she knew they were subconsciously intended all along. This made her furious. Yes, everything he had just said was perfect, it was romantic, corny, sentimental, and truthful; it was everything an ideal relationship would want. But did she want it?

Of course she did. This was what she had been hoping for and for one reason or another once she knew she had it, it was hard to grasp the concept. If Bill hadn't projected his anger like that than maybe Beatrix would be having an easier time...believing him? No, she believed him. She knew what he said was utter and bitter truth. But she was having difficulty with something and it was making more then just her back ache.

Finally she broke the kiss and her thinking completed, if that was possible. Lids were half draped over blue hues which were pointed to the ground. Her lips parted and closed and parted again before she spoke, keeping that level of whisper he spoke with, "That was sweet." She laughed light heartedly at her vague response and the hints of a real smile began to grace her features.

Bill returned the genuine smile, his free hand coming up to rest on top of her own...the one that had been so poised to slap him. Among other warm emotions on his face, there was a look of complete satisfaction there as well. He hadn't realized how badly he'd needed to get that out, to tell her that, until now. Part of him wished he'd done this earlier...there could have been much anger and hostility avoided between the two of them. But, he also knew he hadn't of been ready to do this until now. He realized as well, that he had to get himself so completely angry to enable himself to come back around full circle. It seemed a little ridiculous, but that was simply the way he worked.

Most of that shit he'd said to her had just been recycled fodder from over the years. He'd just delivered it in a more pointed manner. Sure, he'd been upset about the killed client, but he knew now that wasn't the real catalyst behind his outrage. All he had to do was look at her now, like this, to know what the real catalyst was.

"I tried," he replied to her...still whispering, his hand moving up to rake through her hair, "If only there was a way to be sweet while being a real bastard about it...I'd be far better at it," a smile, that quickly dropped into a more serious expression, "I say a lot Kiddo but I really don't know how to please..." He searched her face, but it was difficult to tell what she was thinking. He knew she had to be completely confused at this sudden change and probably still quite mad at him. He'd take that...he had deserved it.

Beatrix was so confused but there was no avoiding the complete rain of warmth in her eyes. Pushing aside the fact that she was still irate with him she came to see how the puzzle pieces were being put together. The facts finally emerged. He didn't just 'love' her, he was 'in love' with her. That put a whole new reel of thoughts in her head. All of it was just as confusing. She idly leaned her face into his and placed a small kiss on the edge of his mouth. "You're efficient in both areas," she whispered in reply.

Bill smiled gently at her response, eyes closing as if he was taking in a banquet of sensations. He could smell her, still taste her...a thick cloud of pheromones was emitting from her, if she aware of it or not...and he felt...well, somewhat tipsy from it all. "I have my moments," he replied in a slightly egomaniacal tone of whisper, as he bent his head to nuzzle his face into the crook behind her ear. She was sweaty, but hell, so was he...and besides...it only added to her already intoxicating appeal.

"I can't say I've had too many complaints...over the years..." he mumbled into her skin, "Of course...many of those women...didn't have as much experience...as yourself..." he trailed off, lips becoming more concerned with other matters than talking.

She laughed a little but it was unsettling. Beatrix had a hell of a lot of experience and her experience ranged in a wide variety of forms. But she could guess and being pretty accurate at which experience he was pertaining to. This was making her ill at ease. "Right," her voice returned to an inside level. She pulled her head back and hit the padded mat she was still secularly backed up against. She wasn't going to let him get anymore kisses in. Beatrix was finally getting the poisoned tip, or in other words the point of his actions. "You fucking asshole..." she breathed. Her façade was a mixture of confusion and disgust. "You planned this all along." Her lips went taut to display how upset she was. Did he really expect her to succumb to his confession and display of affection? If he did then Bill really didn't know Beatrix all that well.

Bill stared at her agape for a brief second, but the rare show of surprise was quickly taken over with one of anger. That anger had only been simmering beneath a placid fuzzy surface, laying in wait... it didn't take much for it to regain control.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He said in a raised voice, the whispers long gone, "Wait..." a sneer, "...you think I planned this all along? You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

A short bitter laugh, "Sure Kiddo...I was sitting there right before you arrived...writing it all down...Hrm...let's see," he placed a finger on his chin mockingly, "...one...get really fucking angry at her...two...fight her...three...spill emotional guts to her...four...seduce her..." a frown, "That's ridiculous...you can't blame me for the position you're in now...not this time..." He leaned forward again, but this time in anger, "You're here because you wanted to be baby...don't deny it..." Well, that was going to irk the living hell out of her...but right now, Bill didn't care. How dare she accuse him of such a thing...even if...deep down he knew she was partially right...but only partially...

This time Beatrix was the one with the mouth agape for a brief second. Of course it irked the hell out of her, how could it not? Her eyes flashed. Her mind whirled through an array of smart ass remarks she could throw at him for that but for some reason none of them seemed fitting enough. None of them would be able to top off how she really felt.

So, being one for actions over words she went with actions. Blue eyes locked with his own, keeping his gaze and attention, and then out of nowhere she bent up her leg and kneed him harshly in the calf. She wanted to go further up but that seemed unnecessary. This worked. At the sudden surprise, the tall blonde was allowed more room, and quickly slipped out his clutches and made a sprint for the exit.

Goddamn her! Bill let out a growl of frustration and pain, as he was forced to move away and grab at his throbbing leg. But he quickly covered, and with a snarl...although somewhat of an amused one, he watched her slip away and make a run for the open door. "I don't think so..." he mumbled with a smirk. He then proceeded to chase after her with a serious limp. By sheer willpower he managed to catch her, mere feet from the door. He spun her around violently by the shoulders and grabbing her by the face, kissed her rather roughly.

In response, she slapped him...really, really hard. The sound echoed throughout the room.

"Shit!" Bill shouted, hand flying up to his already quite red cheek. He glared at her painfully, "That's it..." and he made a second grab at her, completely undaunted. He was really pissed off at her, but...deep down...this was also rather amusing...

Beatrix tried to make another attempt at grabbing the door knob but her wrist was snatched and held firmly in place. She made an attempt to tug her hand free but he only applied more pressure. It was coming to the point where if he put anymore force on the hold he was likely to fracture a few bones. She gritted her teeth together and glared daggers into him. All she wanted to do was leave and he was making it so goddamn difficult! "Let go of me," she hissed.

"No...not this time Kiddo..." Bill replied, finally managing to yank her hand off of the doorknob...which with Beatrix was no easy task. Still holding onto her wrist with an iron grip he pivoted and side kicked the partially open door completely shut with a loud slam. Frowning, he wrapped her arm around her back, while he remained still facing her...still keeping the hold on her wrist. He checked her other hand at her side with his hip. "I'm not letting you leave this time...not that easily..." he breathed, "Not after what I've gone through...besides," a smirk, "...I don't think you really want to leave all that badly...your faking it." He pulled her even closer, "You could easily get out of this hold...if you really wanted to."

In her mind Beatrix was damning him and the look in her eyes checked with her thoughts. She was so utterly pissed off because he was right. She could get out of this and apply a lot of pain in the process but she didn't want to do that. And the only reason to explain that was she cared about him and never intentionally sought out ways to hurt him emotionally or physically. She wasn't about to admit his truth or become submissive and wrap her arms around him in affection. Ah, that wouldn't be Beatrix Kiddo. So, she tilted her head back and spit a wad of saliva in his face. How much was she 'really' faking now? Bill had called her a pathological liar.

Bill...really...REALLY did no like being spat on. It was so utterly vile and he was somewhat shocked Beatrix had done it. He immediately let go of her wrist, to wipe a hand across his face. He wasn't going to spit back at her, that just wasn't his style...now Budd on the other hand. "That was dirty..." Bill said with a frown, "...and very unladylike..." With some real anger, he shoved her away with both arms, "I still think you're full of shit though..." He glared at her, "Your lying to yourself again...face it Kiddo...when it comes to you...and me...you simply can't admit the truth to yourself...And why? Maybe it's because when you were a horny little fourteen year old fantasizing about men, you never pictured yourself wanting somebody like me...never in your life...I think it disturbs you a little...no...I think it disturbs you quite a bit..." He took a few advancing steps on her, looking quite upset, "You can't quite decide if you're revolted by me or in fact...the complete opposite..." He shoved her again, just for pure spite.

Beatrix stumbled and found herself back up against the wall. Out of returned spite she had the intention to shove him right back but that was child's play. Instead she stared at him with wide eyes and her lips formed a thin line across her irate features. On the inside she felt sick. The fact that he was pointing out truths that she never came to terms with made her stomach churn. She didn't want to hear it anymore, she just wanted to leave.

She swallowed down a foul taste in her mouth. She didn't want to comment on his words and she didn't even want to acknowledge them but she ran out of actions to pose as words. Her features softened but not by much. "Why are you doing this to me?" She chocked out with effort.

Again, she had posed another weighty question on him. One with difficult answers. One he wasn't sure he wanted to answer to...but he'd already began that trend...there was no point in stopping now. Unlike Beatrix, he could tell the truth when it came down to it.

Bill came to a halt a few feet in front of her, face flushed with exertion, anger and a swollen slapped cheek. His features softened, a little, "I'm doing this to you...because I want you to come to terms with things you can't deny...there's no point in lying to yourself when you know the truth. Even if that truth makes you sick. You're hurting me and you're hurting yourself by continuing to deny it," he took a step forward, still keeping his distance from her, his voice dropped, "...so...just...stop..."

There it was all laid out on the table for all to see, including Beatrix. It was over and if she didn't come to terms with this blatant truth everything that she was subconsciously working for would be burned. She didn't want to hurt herself anymore and she didn't want to hurt him. She wanted this to work, she wanted him, and she wanted her confusion cleared. This all could be resolved if she stopped. Easier said than done. Beatrix would make herself accept it and by accepting it she was accepting a whole lot more. She'd never fully accept certain truths especially when it came down to Bill and herself, but for now she could at least try.

She tilted her chin up and head cocked to the side to bring herself back to stature. She didn't say anything but the look in her eyes spoke for her.

There was a few long seconds, where their eyes locked. He could easily read her large eyes...and everything that was said within those limitless blue depths. She hadn't of liked what he'd said...not one bit, but he could see she'd come to some decision.

She would never fully tell herself the truth, she would never fully tell him the truth. Bill knew that, even now. But he could see...at least...for the moment, she was willing to accept a few of those truths. And knowing how difficult that was for her...it meant something to him that she was at the very least...trying. With her decision in mind, Bill closed the remaining distance between them and, grabbing her face, once again kissed her. There was a sense of urgency and definitely some residual anger in this action. She could very well turn around and slap him again...or worse knee him...but, at this point...he was willing to take that risk. He simply didn't care anymore.

Beatrix wasn't left with much of a choice. She returned the kiss. As pissed off as she remained at him she couldn't help but give into temptation. Damn him. Her arms idly wrapped around his torso and she tilted further into him. She was finally giving into the truth which further lead to her giving into him. She was sick of the fighting and quarrels and physical aggression. So instead she replaced it with passion, want, and a little bit of lust. She wasn't going to fully bring herself into this with full out passion or anything close to seduction but she was getting there.

Before Beatrix had enough to get really into things, Bill pulled away roughly...leaving her gasping for air and perhaps leaving her just a little perplexed.

He shoved her shoulder's against the wall, "No..." he pulled his hands away as if they had just been burnt, "I don't want some pity fuck from you...your just giving in because that's easier..." he took a step back, "I want none of that..." Brutal but true. He could get what she had just been offering elsewhere...but he didn't want that from her. He wanted her...as she was...he wanted her, to want him...not to just go along with his whims. He'd had far too much of that in his life and he was sick of it...just as sick as she was with fighting. He knew she was capable of it...he'd felt that true want from her before, but not right now. He buttoned up a few buttons on his shirt that had come undone. "Well, thanks for the quant little bit of forced affection there Kiddo...that was nice..."

"You're welcome," Beatrix replied tartly. How the hell this ended up being what it was she had no idea but she didn't like it. She honestly had no intention of giving him a pity fuck or any fuck for that matter. Her slender brows furrowed in annoyance and resentment. She knew he was right. Why did he have to be so right about everything, especially tonight? That scratched her in tender places.

If she did do anything with him tonight it would be out of pure pity or complete compliance to his wishes. That wouldn't be 'special'.

Beatrix pushed off the wall and came a few steps from him. "Can I leave now?"

Bill had ruined a perfect opportunity, he'd tossed it aside...wasted it...and he knew it... His cruel mouth had always gotten him in trouble in the past...apparently some things never changed. It had started off so well...he'd tried, he really had...but inevitably he fucked it up. Bill rarely loathed much about himself, but right now...he loathed what he'd just done. He felt like a complete ass...which wasn't really a new feeling for him, but it was far more poignant this time.

He waved a hand at the door, "Of course," he mumbled. With a look of remorse, he watched Beatrix silently and furiously leave. He could have told her he was sorry...but his confessional pool had run dry for the day...he was incapable of saying more.

When Beatrix had left, Bill strode over to one of the racks of weapons on the wall and picked out a semi sharp Chinese kung fu style sword. With flaring nostrils, he swung it around fancily for a few seconds...as if attempting to exercise some demon deep within himself. Right in the middle of a swing, he threw it as hard as he possibly could at the nearest wall with a loud yell. The semi-sharp blade embedded a few inches into the wood, the handle vibrating from the impact with a dull hum. Spent, he slumped against the wall. He sat there for sometime.


	5. Finally

"Ouch," the tall blonde muttered with intended sarcasm. She was clad in a pair of stone washed jeans and a peach shaded shirt with a pair of heavy black boots. Blue eyes peered through the shades of her sunglasses down at a body. A dead body that was slumped over the edge of a wooden booth and blood was steadily pooling into the small moat between the booth and the main area.

"You should talk," Budd remarked with a lopsided grin. He was brandishing what looked to be a toy rifle that one used when playing a shoot the target game you found at a cheap side show carnival.

"Yes, but you shot him in the....ass." Beatrix said and idly strode around the counter into the 'game' area and tilted her pretty blonde head up to stare at the array of prizes hanging from the ceiling.

"I'm trying to be more creative," he confessed with a light chuckle and set the weapon back on the counter. "What are you doing?" He raised a questionable eyebrow.

"I am..." she trailed off as her long arm extended and she plucked down a stuffed teddy bear from the ceiling. "Getting a souvenir."

"You didn't win anythin'." He shook his head in disgust but it was hard not to miss the smirk on his face. "What you gonna do with a fucking bear....with a," he cringed. "heart on its stomach and its pink?"

She turned back to him, her expression placid. "If you must know, it's a present." She walked back around and began to take strides in the direction of the truck.

"A present for who?" He prodded and followed at her heels.

"You'll see," she cooed and slipped into the truck.

"What in the fucking hell is this?" Bill stared at the.........."thing".........in his hands. It was.......fuzzy......cutesy....and.....the most obnoxious pink he'd ever seen. He was pretty damn sure it was a bear......oh god...and it had a big heart on its belly. It looked even sillier gripped in his large worn hands. His eyes scrolled up to Beatrix, who was standing in front of him, obviously very amused by his reaction. "I didn't know this pink could be possible without the influence of hallucinogenic drugs," he quipped with a smirk, eyes crinkling at her with an effectuate look. Budd was standing behind Beatrix, looking equally as amused. Bill wanted to wipe that goofy grin off his brother's face...no doubt he'd never live this down with his younger sibling.

"Well," Bill raised his eyebrows, attention back on the bear, "...I would prefer it to come with a little Colt 45, a mini red Ferrari Testorosa to ride in, and a pair of silver spurred boots.....but," he smirked back up at Beatrix again, "...I guess I'll just have to settle for iridescent pink....and....." he made a disgusted face, "....a big ol' heart...."

Beatrix stood before Bill holding a haughty posture and an all out proud smile on her face. She knew she'd get a kick out of his reaction to receiving such a gift especially from her and seeing this brightened her mood. Her other reason for getting the bear was to try and break light through the thick cloud of smoke that had been looming over the two killers since their interaction in the shed just a week ago.

"You should sleep with it, Bill," Budd chimed in, keeping his grin. He was enjoying this far too much but even Budd was allowed the satisfaction of taunting his brother in the friendliest manner he could muster. "Or better yet!" He held up an enthusiastic finger. "You should put it right next to your Hanzo sword."

Beatrix laughed loudly, a genuine laugh. "Perfect."

Bill looked utterly revolted at the thought of sleeping with the bear. "I am NOT sleeping with this bear....no offence Kiddo.." he added to the tall blonde with a smirk. Honestly, there were other's in the room he'd much rather sleep with and it wasn't Budd. "I couldn't handle waking up next to something that pink." On a whim, Bill went over to the display where his Hanzo sword was proudly sitting. This was the only real weapon that Bill displayed in his "front" house....strange that he had so many weapons and yet they were all housed in the secure back room. He obviously had some meaning behind this. Smirking, and looking just as amused as the others, he set the bear down next to the sword. He took a step back to critique the setup.

He put a hand to his chin, mocking the typical smarmy art critic, "Hrm....I like it.....it really says so much about all of us as a whole society. While we grow up to become deadly weapons of humankind, inside we are still all just fuzzy pink children.....well bears.....or...." he laughed good naturedly, "...fuck it.....hah...but I still like it."

Beatrix's mission had been a success. Bill wasn't unaware of what she had attempted to do....but he was happy she had. It was strange how something so completely silly could work to heal people who were far from the pink fuzzy bear type. Life was weird that way.

Beatrix was elated but all that would show this emotion was her set of twinkling blue eyes. She had turned to watch as Bill situated the bear in its new home and found the spot more than fitting. It was overly moronic but it was kind of cute in a fucked up way.

Budd had his forefingers and thumbs connected into a square that he held in front of his face, trying to imitate another artistic stereotype. "I love it!" He chuckled and let his hands fall back to his side. He turned to Bill and Beatrix. "I'm headin' out. Bill, I'll call ya later. Bea, always an experience." He flashed a smile, turned, and exited.

The tall blonde was still standing, staring at the bear, with arms over her chest and her head cocked to the side. "I think you should name it," she remarked suddenly for good humor.

Bill stared at her, looking silly standing like that next to a gleaming samurai sword and a bright pink bear. "Name it?" This concept seemed completely beyond his comprehension. He missed Beatrix's joking intentions and took the suggestion seriously. Bill had never had any pets growing up nor anything really worthy of naming. He realized with a revelation he'd never named anything in his entire life (he didn't think of the DiVAS as being named, they just were). He didn't even name his cars, like some other 'car men' tended to do. They, like this bear were inanimate objects...he didn't see the need for them to have names. But looking at Beatrix, he suddenly saw the need.

He went back to staring at the bear intensely, crossing his arms....the confrontation between the bear and the killer was rather comical. "His name is Julio," he said in a confident tone. "After my childhood friend......." He paused, "It's far more cute and fuzzy than Julio....but I think he'd have found the irony funny." Obviously, by the way Bill spoke of Julio he was no longer living. He nodded, giving Beatrix a small smile, "Yes....Julio...."

Beatrix gave a tight nod to Bill's choice of names. She wasn't going to ask for any information on the real Julio taking in consideration it could be a risky subject for Bill. She knew it was hard for him to come up with a name for something such as a stuffed animal. Beatrix always had the thought that Bill was rather clever when it came to 'nick-names'. He did come up with the DiVAS and code named each and every one of them according to their unique qualities. Perhaps that same didn't count for a stuffed fluorescent bear, but it was a name.

The name given Beatrix idly sauntered up and behind the teddy bear residing next to that astounding Hanzo blade. She tilted her head down to peer at it as if evaluating the competition. Satisfied she stepped back. "I think Julio will enjoy himself here," she said matter-of-factly.

Bill was glad Beatrix didn't prod him about Julio. The fact that the kid had been shot in the face while trying to rob a convenience store at the age of twenty-two...well it took some charm away from the bear. And it had been a charming moment, not worth tainting.

Bill chuckled, watching Beatrix closely as she approached the sword stand. "I hope so as well. Although," he added with a tilt of the head, "...this isn't the most stable of environments for a stuffed animal." He gave her a tight smile, perhaps knowing there was a little more behind that statement than a simple joke.

He took a few slow steps towards her, fingertips running along the edge of the sword's gleaming scabbard, eyes focused on the smooth black wood. "That was a nice gesture Kiddo....." he said a low tone, "....thank you....." a fleeting glace up at her, "...even if it was hideously cute and stupid."

Beatrix put on a broad smile. She had become quite a hard assed bitch over the past few years but she still held that spark that could bring out her over all cute dispositions. "I was aiming for the whole cute but nice gesture," she admitted with a touch of fondness in her sarcastic tone.

Blue eyes watched as his fingers traced along the scabbard and lost herself in aimless thoughts for a moment. She pursed her lips and let her gaze travel back down to Julio. "He'll be happy here," she added gently and stepped away. It was time to change the subject. "Budd shot empty rounds into some guy's ass."

Bill looked up suddenly, eyebrows rose, "Budd shot empty rounds into a guy's ass?" He wasn't sure why he'd repeated that comment but...holy shit it was amusing. He laughed, genuinely, "Jesus.....he did that a few years ago....maybe longer, I dunno.." Bill kept laughing, ".....it all blends together.....I didn't think he'd actually pull that trick again," the laugh died down to a chuckle, "At least it wasn't rock salt....he likes to use that trick as well." Bill was obviously relishing in some happier memory of he and Budd's days together. He sighed, ending that bout of laughter, eyes now fixated on Beatrix he became more sober. She looked well, to say beautiful would be only redundant. But it was true nonetheless. There was always a strange glow to her under the track lighting in his living room.

"I like your shirt," he said rather randomly, "It reminds me of the beach....not quite the dessert....but the beach....southern California to be exact." Nobody ever said Bill wasn't a little on the strange side.

Beatrix raised both slender brows quizzically at him. "I'm glad you like it?" She said her tone lingering on uncertainty to her reply. It was a typical tight fitting button up shirt with no special embroidering on it. She was even sure, no, she was positive she'd worn it before. But, it was a compliment as strange as it sounded and she always took a compliment especially when it came from Bill. Her brows eased and her features softened. She made a casual motion at his shirt. She wasn't going to patronize his clothing, she liked the way Bill dressed. It was very...Bill. And she knew how 'protective' he was when it came to his attire. "I like your shirt too. It screams Clint Eastwood cross bred with Bruce Lee."

Bill looked down at his button up shirt, a hand coming up to rest on his chest, "Really?" He sounded flattered. Only Bill would probably find such a strange combination so flattering. He smiled, "I was going more for the John Wayne meets Doc Hollywood look......but I think I like your assessment better." He chuckled, almost forgetting that he and Beatrix got along so well. It was at times like this that he realized, that despite a number of differences, they had a repor that Bill had never had with anyone else, nor could he hope to again. It was quite nice.

He took a few more causal steps towards her, his eyes traveling up and down her tall form, "I don't know about those jeans though Kiddo.....they belong in 1985." As if Bill was one to talk about dressing just a little out of date. "Nice fit though.....and I dig the boots..." He came to stop a few inches in front of her, an amused but well natured smile on his face, "Although...it doesn't really matter....I think you could dress in a garbage bag, held together with duct tape and you'd still manage to look stunning..."

Beatrix's lips spread into a wide smirk. "I would?" Somehow the mere thought of herself parading around in a garbage bag wasn't at all appealing. But going back to their critique on one another's clothing she added, "I wonder how stunning you'd look in a garbage bag..." she trailed off suddenly gaining the vivid image in her head and noticeably cringed.

"Nevermind." Blue eyes sparkled with a tint of mischievous actions but this was only brought on by her heightened amusement. She loved spending moments like this with him. She couldn't rightly admit that she was over what happened a week ago but she was willing to put the past behind. And her willing efforts were paying off, for once.

Bill was going to say something about her looking more stunning wearing nothing......but he checked that, realizing it was a far too juvenile and typically male thing to say. He was better than that.

He burst out laughing at her comment about him in a garbage bag, "Yeah....don't linger on that thought for long.....stunning is not in my personal description....all attire and variety of garbage bags included," he continued to laugh for a moment longer enjoying these moments just as much as she was. Like Beatrix, he was not completely over what had happened the week before....he was still angry, mostly with himself.

These were the best moments.....not those that happened before...but here....now.....

He sat partially on the back of the couch next to her, still looking very amused. He gently picked up her hand and examined its slim makeup, as he had a tendency to do. He looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped, and with a subtle smile went back to examining her hand.

She narrowed her eyes in on her hand that was being thoroughly examined. It was a trait Bill picked up that was only displayed around Beatrix. Such was his tendency to play with her hair. She enjoyed these traits as simple as they were it gave her a sense of contentment and sometimes composure. She was rather mellow at the present moment. The efforts in the last assignment had worn her out physically and what happened in the past ten minutes only added to her mellow state. It was a welcome as well as rare feeling. But none the less enjoyed. She canted her head. "Does my hand fascinate you?" She asked quietly.

Bill let her question hang in the air for a few seconds, his head still tilted down to her hand, "Everything about you fascinates me Kiddo...," he replied in a hushed tone of voice. He took a moment to trace the lifeline on her palm. Bill was good at doing this, and he had taught Beatrix the trick a few years ago. "Your hands....your hair...your eyes.....your smile, your laugh...the genuine one, not the bullshit one....the way you tilt your head like that...just like your doing now.." strange, because he wasn't looking at her at the moment, his look still fixated on her hand, "....that little sauntering walk you do, the way you raise your eyebrows...just barely, the way you drive my cars," leave it to Bill to put that in there, "..the way your fingers wrap around cups, that smart ass glint you get in your eyes, the way you lay your head on my shoulder......" he paused, ".....well....and all that cool killing stuff too.....because I'm still sadistic." What he found perplexing more than fascinating was what she was doing with a man like him but he didn't voice that.....they'd been over that territory...it didn't seem right at this time. His finger stopped at the end of her lifeline......"Twenty four years......" he whispered to himself.

She laughed lightly at his dose of compliments if one could call them so. She wasn't laughing at him or at herself but at the simplicity of his words. They were simple and sweet. Beatrix always loved it when Bill was sweet. That special personality trait that Bill only surfaced for her.

The laugh died down quickly and she held a genuine, thin, and placid smile on her face. "Yes, Bill, I'm that old," she teased knowing that she was far from old. She was still in her prime and had a lot more time to grow and learn which she'd do a whole much more of. She nonchalantly and almost gingerly used her free hand to grasp his free hand. She tilted it so his open palm was facing up and she canted her head, in that way he liked, and inspected his lifeline. Bill had taught her this tactic of reading the lines on your hands to decode your age or anyone else's age. She rarely used it. Her only memory of using it skillfully and not out of fun was during an assignment that required her to decipher the age of a dead body. She couldn't even remember why exactly she had to do that. But, she knew one day this little skill Bill taught her would prove handy.

She traced a single digit along a hard chiseled line running from his wrist to his forefinger. "I may be awhile," came further, good natured teasing.

Bill laughed, yet again, at her little friendly prod at his age. "Yeah...just keep going...it's quite an epic little groove there...." he chided her on, watching her with a blazingly warm expression. He was surprised she could remember how to do the little palm technique...it had been years since he'd showed it to her. It was just one of those little things that one never knew when it might be useful....assassins led rather unorthodox lives, anything could happen.

He continued to watch her. He remembered being twenty four all too well......he couldn't say he had been wiser than Beatrix then. He had certainly been far harder and angrier....that was for sure. When she'd reached the end of his lifeline, albeit a bit jokingly, he slowly enclosed her significantly smaller and extremely more aesthetically pleasing hand in his own. Hands were very fascinating to Bill. They were the first instruments of human kind. They were the weapons of pain and the conjurers of pleasure. They created objects and they destroyed those same objects. Without them human beings were handicapped, with them.....and they then had the ability to create those handicaps upon others. Like many things, they were a blessing and a curse.

Pulling himself out a typical revere, Bill smiled, hand squeezing Beatrix's a little tighter. This time he looked right at her, his increasingly warm expression fixed upon her face.

Beatrix kept that thin smile on her softened features. Her eyes sent off a warm aurora as she slowly leveled them back to his. Their eyes locked and Beatrix lingered before leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek.

She always wished for more moments such as these where it was the two of them and they were content. There were no arguments only friendly bickering and tender touches. She casually leaned in to his body and she let herself take in that unfamiliar feeling of protection from someone other than herself. She let her head flop against his shoulder not because he had said he liked it but out of pure habit. Her gaze drifted aimlessly as she let the moment last.

Bill loved it when she did that. He'd already stated that, but he wanted to revisit it again.

He had always gravitated to the role of the protector...and far beyond the typical "male" tendency......he had always been that way...wanting to hold and spoil "his women" from a very young age. He smiled against Beatrix's soft kiss and wove an arm around her torso as she leaned against him, his hand wrapped protectively around her shoulder. He rested his chin on the top of her head, staring out equally as aimlessly.

It was one of those "precious moments" as Bill's favorite soul song of the 70's so aptly stated. Instinctually he wrapped another arm around her. There were no sounds save for the hum of the central air conditioning and soft chirps from the dusk birds outside. A low evening sun was casting orange rays through the slats of the wooden patio curtains, giving the oak floor a strange striped glow patterning. He was in no hurry to end this moment, and they stayed like that for sometime. There wasn't much to be said right now, what had been said was said and done....and what was to be said would come in time.

Without much thought, Bill tilted his head down and kissed her on the top of the head, he lingered there for a moment....and then kissed her head again...then her ear, her temple, her cheek and then came to a pause on her lips. He then realized that she'd been slowly tilting her head up.

As it was stated before it was hard for Beatrix pass up on Bill's kisses. Even when he kissed her last week out of pure anger and want of control she couldn't deny that behind that slap she gave him she found hidden pleasure in receiving it. It wasn't much different now except there was no anger between them. Well, there was but it wasn't as prominent a feeling.

As much of a murdering bastard that Bill was Beatrix couldn't help but have a feeling of security when he held her like this. It was funny how much a killer could thaw under the wing of the right person.

Her head was still leaning against his shoulder and tilted up, and her body softened in his arms. She let her eye lids cascade over blue hues and finally closed as she sealed the space between their lips. It was a sensual, pleasurable, and all out affectionate kiss.

Bill returned the kiss with equal affection. His hand that had been on her shoulder strayed to her cheek, pressing there with tender but wanting fingertips. Realizing Beatrix had no intention of breaking this kiss anytime soon, it was never always a sure thing with her, he titled his head to the side, allowing for the kiss to become a little more passionate.

He was clearly aware of all of the times they had shared such physical contact.....all of them were immensely good, but they didn't always end on such a sweet note. After what had happened last week, Bill had it in his mind to make sure that didn't happen again no matter what transpired tonight.

His arm that was still wrapped around her torso, squeezed her in a little tighter, fingers spread across the small of her back. As previously stated as well, Bill was not under confident in his abilities as a lover, perhaps not as much as he was as a killer....but fairly close. After all, he had a lifetime of experience to draw upon.....he hardly had always been that way of course, but he had always been a quick learner.

Honestly this wasn't the most comfortable kiss they've shared. It was more of a side, tilted, crooked body kiss. And as much as Beatrix was enjoying it her neck was starting to ache from having it nestled on Bill's shoulder and tilted upwards and a little to the side. So, to fix this minor predicament she broke the kiss and in an almost graceful manner stepped around and came back to him full frontal. She draped her long arms over his shoulders and came in to continue that kiss. She pressed her body closer to his as she allowed the kiss to show more passion and need.

Beatrix's move did make things a lot more comfortable and allowed things to step up just a little more. Having her facing him, Bill wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up a bit for better leverage even if she was at the same height as himself. As was typical, the one kiss was simply turning into a myriad of strung together ones. Bill found, that with Beatrix it was difficult to be prodding and slow moving. She was just too damn good.

He sat back a little more on the edge of the top of the couch for better support, his hands straying from her back to entangle into her golden hair....it was as soft and as beautiful as ever. He wanted to break away to look at her face.....but he wanted not to even more.....

Beatrix had hardly as much experience as Bill but she never thought of herself bad when it came to kissing or pleasing a mate. Sometimes with past men she felt she had to prove something to them. With Bill she never found it a need to prove to him that she was 'good' in all aspects. She didn't initially rush when it came to sharing affectionate contact but moved at a faster pace. Perhaps her reasons for doing this was due to the fact that when she and Bill shared something so perfect as a kiss it was stupid to linger on it. If they made one long passionate kiss last for minutes there was the possibility it could set back and they'd be back to the hate rather than the love part of their growing relationship. Her long white fingers began to aimlessly lace through his hair and slither along his back, still melting in for further lip to lip contact.

Bill was loving this........drowning in it...already.....It was always like this with Beatrix. It was dangerous. Women were dangerous...they made him do bad things...they always had, but Beatrix was at the top of that list. She was completely and dangerously irresistible, especially when things started to go like this. She made him feel like he was twenty again...that flaming uncontrollable passion that filled oneself to an insane and irresponsible level. That's probably another reason why he liked being with her so much....in essence, she was something of a fountain of youth.

Bill leaned further back, scooping her up further.....he was on the verge of losing his balance....but he was managing to stay put for the moment perched like this.

Pulling back, taking a chance....he was all about chances, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt exposing more of her elegant neck and shoulders. Lifting her up further, she was always light, he buried his face in this new area of exposed skin.

Bill knew that Beatrix was always a sucker when it came to her neck region. There were always those spots that women just loved to be touched and he found it and remembered it. This time she was fully ready to soak into it. She craned her neck to the side and swiped blonde locks off her shoulder to allow him better access. She let her eyes close and she fell into the moment. Her breathing turned shallow but was only due to her sensations of complete bliss.

Bill never ever forgot things such as this it had been stowed away in his mental rolodex for quite sometime, and he was only more than eager to recall it. He spent a good few minutes on this activity, hands clasped firmly at Beatrix's sides. He could tell by her posture and breathing that he was doing more than enough right and that was the goal....like most men, he was rather easy to please.....she was the important one here in his mind.

Unbuttoning a few more buttons on her shirt, he peeled back the garment from her shoulders revealing elegant but muscular arms. He pulled back from her to take in the sight. More than pleased with what he saw, he pulled her in close again, hands running across those powerful shoulders and down her arms.

For a brief second, he looked like he was going to say something, but instead decided he'd rather return to kissing her instead. She seemed a little woozy...unsteady on her feet. In an attempt to relieve this, he tried to pick her up further but he quickly realized that was a bad move when he lost his balance on his perch. Falling backwards with a mumbled curse, he pulled her down with him; into a rather ungainly vertical topple onto and nearly off the couch, his head nearly hitting the floor in the process.

Laughing good naturedly, he held her face in between his hands, "Well, so much for being smooth huh?"

Beatrix was wavering between a giggle and a laugh as both were quite fitting. She was now laying on top of him in an almost forbidden lay out, her hand cupped behind his head and her other hand palm face down on the floor to support herself from sliding off. As the laugher died out there was the essence of seduction in the depths of those blue hues.

"I thought it was kinda sexy," she teased softly and leaned in for another kiss but stopped herself. Her slender brows raised a fraction and her lips formed a crooked line. "One of us is bound to fall over again." The couch was comfy for a couch but it wasn't really that spacious. And also considering the obscure positions they were already in. Beatrix wasn't 'suggesting' anything but she found it necessary to note.

Bill returned her "suggestion" with a sly smirk, hands lost in her tussle of hair. He knew exactly what she was getting at but he briefly wondered if she was ready to go there. He liked her like this, like she was now....quite a lot......but she was right.....they were only bound to fall again if they stayed here and as amusing as that was the first time...he wasn't sure he wanted to repeat it.

He looked into her closely positioned face for a few moments, chest heaving slightly. There were suddenly a million questions in Bill's mind, but his mind was quickly winning out to pure lust and surpassingly truly felt love. And when it came to many men, there was little to be done at that point.

Sitting up suddenly, he wrapped his arms under her legs and stood up. Thankfully Bill was still in moderately good shape....because no doubt many men had thrown their backs out trying to pull that off. And a man with a thrown out back was no longer very sexy.

He knew the way well enough, and even with having Beatrix in front of him, Bill could manage the nearly blind walk down the hallway without running into....much..... He did manage to nearly clip an end table with Beatrix's foot and smack his elbow on the wall. As Bill took that slow but pleasurable walk down the long hallway towards the end bedroom, he couldn't help but flash back to his memories of Beatrix throughout the years.....and now....here she was....chest to chest...well more like chest to face with him.....his face turned up to look at her with blazing admiration. He had to admit, it was a little unreal.

Bill had to kick his door open, since his hands were needed to hold her up. The whole thing might have been a little dramatic, but he did always have a flair for the dramatic.

As bizarre and misplaced as this was Beatrix didn't mind it. She was never treated like this, not by any man, but Bill wasn't any man. Either way this new feeling of being happy, really fucking happy, was exhilarant and a turn on for Beatrix. What Bill was doing was treating her very sweetly and no one treated her like that. No one ever would in quite the same way.

Trying to get to Bill's bedroom without applying any major injuries was a task but a success in the end. She had her arms locked around his neck to support herself from pulling herself over along with him and rested her forehead against his. Soft blue eyes locked with those hard brown ones. Her own held a mixture of emotions. Beatrix was well aware of the risks she was taking but she wasn't worried. She could stop it whenever she felt the need but right now she had no intention of stopping at any point.

Bill wished they could stay like this....but he couldn't physically pull it off, Beatrix was light...but he couldn't hold her like this much longer. He gave her one more long kiss, and another on the forehead before reaching the edge of the bed and slowly setting her down. She sunk easily down onto the comfortable bedding.

He had left the lights on at a dim mid level lighting when he had last left the room. Of course, he'd had no idea that this would happen here but it was a nice accidental touch anyways. As always his huge California king was neatly made and in true "Bill" stylings.

And there in the middle of it all, was Beatrix, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. It was like something right out of a guilty dream, that no doubt he'd surely had at least one of.

Crawling on top of her, he paused to sit up and unbutton his shirt. He wadded the garment up and in very uncharacteristic style threw it on the floor, revealing again the gallery of battle scars and a moderate spread of dark chest hair. Bill certainly wasn't going to be an underwear model anytime soon or anything even close to such, but he certainly did not lack brute male machismo. He stared down at her. A good amount of women would find this quite disturbing.....he could only hope, at least he thought from what he knew thus far, that Beatrix was not one of those women.

Of course not, she wouldn't be laying there if she did. Beatrix didn't give a damn and she most likely never would.

Once again Beatrix stared up at him with an awe affect as slender digits traced along those jagged lines. There was nothing new to trace which could be considered a good thing. Her tracings didn't last that long, she had seen, traced, and felt the same way before. So, she gave her hands another task and that was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. Her expression stayed stoic during this process and when finished she haphazardly tossed it to the floor along with Bill's.

She was wearing a white sports bra beneath. She decided to rid Bill of the daunting task of removing it and did it herself.

Now Beatrix was half naked. Not that Bill hadn't seen her so before but not in this light. The blonde was well aware she had a 'perfect' body except for a few minor light etchings on her skin. She didn't need this reinstated and to avoid it, she put a hand gingerly to the back of his head and brought him down for another kiss, just or more passionate as before.

Bill watched her perform all of these tasks with a mixed look of anticipation, pure lust and awe on his face. His hair kept falling across his eyes and he continuously kept batting it away, not wanting to miss one second of this. He had just started properly oogling her when she pulled him down. He nearly chuckled at this. Of course he'd seen her half naked before, but it had been only professional then and he honestly had blocked any lustful thought from his mind at those times. It had been the right thing to do, now....well....it was all he could think of. But he was quickly distracted from that train of thought, onto another just as tantalizing one when she brought him down for a deep kiss. Hell, she could probably have done anything to him at this point and he'd go along with it. His sharp mind was beginning to dull down into something lower on the evolutionary scale.

He let himself completely lay against her, which was extremely hot, to put it mildly. His knees were still holding up some of his weight, so as to not crush her...not that he was worried with a woman like Beatrix, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do. But that's about where the gentlemanly behavior ended, as his hands had minds of their own now and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop them. Bill could feel himself getting really into this, told by a number of factors and he murmured something into her neck that just come out as a indistinguishable testosterone fueled slur. Well, so much for that. He went back to using mouth for more nonverbal tasks.

Beatrix melted into all of this. Someone, whom it was had slipped her dulled mind at the moment, had said that killers were the best in bed. As to why wasn't entirely known but a major factor was the idea that two killers were able to put aside violent tendencies and do something completely natural. It was hard to fathom Beatrix and Bill, the two deadliest people in the world, were able to put aside everything and give into something they both knew ranked being far more dangerous than risking one's life every day.

Those lights in the back of Beatrix's mind continued to dimly flicker, giving off those signals that had made her stop so many times before. But they were so close and Beatrix so wanted this that she was having a harder time denying the truth.

Her heart was picking up a steady pounding against her chest and whenever Bill happened to use a nonverbal action in a very vulnerable area she sucked in a sharp breath. During the present time she had had her hands wandering over his bare back and aimlessly weaving through his hair. Her hands were becoming bored and desired to move onto something more challenging. Idly she let her wandering hands slide over his chest and farther down where she began to tug loose his belt.

As typical in these sorts of situations, Bill wanted to be able to think....god, there was so much to think about right now, but nature was winning over even his incredibly stubborn will. His mind was becoming almost completely linked to his body, and his body was telling him one thing.

When Beatrix began to unfasten his belt, he immediately brought a hand down to help her. With their combined effort they succeeded without little break in the flow of things. This time, Bill was hell bent on doing this part right. Sitting up slightly, he managed to kick away the garment. Where Bill got silk boxers with Chinese characters on them was a little in question.....more so was what they said...which at the moment, was impossible for Beatrix to read unless she wanted Bill to get an entirely new idea in his mind. He laid back down on her, his hands moving lightly down her face and past her neck to travel down the rest of her body.....which was....absolutely perfect...in every way. He realized he was still wearing his watch, but was far too gone too care nor want to take the effort to remove it.

Things began to speed up a little more at this point, like an out of control train about to derail. Bill, the self titled "master of control", was made a complete and utter liar out of himself. His movements and actions became more urgent and he wasn't entirely sure he could stop now, even if he wanted to....which he sure as hell didn't.

He brought his face up, which was slightly sweaty and partially obscured by his own hair, to look at Beatrix. She didn't appear in the slightest bit hesitant and in response to her pleased expression he began removing her jeans....which of course were tightly fitting...once again.....

Beatrix was beginning to wonder briefly if she should start wearing looser fitting pants so they wouldn't run into this problem. But the thought was short lived as she knew it would never happen. Besides, tight fitting was a hell of a lot easier to maneuver in when kicking someone's ass. Well, that didn't help the situation at hand.

She tentatively pulled up her hips from the soft padding of the comforter and with needed effort began to pull them down. Blue eyes exchanged a look with Bill that told him to have patience. She liked these jeans and had no intention of letting his suddenly new 'un controlling' nature become too gritty. She slipped her legs from beneath him so they were now extended and bent on either side of him. This allowed her an easier time of slipping her jeans off and kicking them off her feet with a jerk sending them to the floor.

Bill was having a difficult time being patient, he felt like a kid at Christmas...so close to unwrapping that present of a lifetime......the one he already knew what it was...yet he hadn't had a chance to play with it yet...but then, in the process not being able to figure out the damn wrapping. Ok, so it was a very bad analogy....but, to him, it made perfect sense. He watched intensely with heavy breathing as Beatrix preformed the fairly impressive maneuver of getting off a skin tight pair of pants.

All of the sudden exertion it took to get a fucking pair of pants off, Beatrix's chest was now heaving and possibly not just due to that. She moistened her lips and brought her head up for another passive kiss on his lips and arms came back around.

Again, she snared him in and again he was completely lost in her embrace. There was so much to touch and admire....it was overwhelming in a very, very good sort of way. Of course, the whole experience was far from new to Bill.....but with Beatrix things tended to feel new. And he couldn't remember ever feeling like this at the very least, not in a long, long time. She was not only beautiful and quite good at this.....but he actually had a genuine care for her. He'd known and cared about her for five years, there was an investment between them....an understanding. It wasn't just about sex, it seemed it was about expression of love as well. Again, a long lost feeling for Bill.

Well, it was down to the nitty gritty now. Beatrix had called things to a halt at this point once before, and Bill admitted to still feeling a vague sense of wariness in the back of his lust dulled mind. He wasn't sure he could face another stop like that.....not now....not after what he felt and was feeling now. To prolong this minor but not impossible thing from happening, he kept up this extremely third base foreplay for a few more minutes.

Finally, knowing she was driving him absolutely crazy....and he simply couldn't stand it anymore...he pulled back from her momentarily. With a raised, rather coy eyebrow he looked at her, gave her a small half smile and in one swift movement tossed off his remaining piece of clothing. And that was that. Beatrix was no stranger to men and Bill was no stranger to being naked around women. He was certainly no exhibitionist but he didn't have much shame either.

The tall blonde stared up at him with elevated eyebrows and her lips formed a crooked smile. Beatrix had seen a lot of guys and she didn't have to look, actually she preferred not to look. Bill wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing man in the world even so, it was a habit with anyone.

Those blue eyes locked with his. They were vacant but sparked with anticipation. Her equally as lust filled mind was finally beginning to come to terms. She had to make a choice. The risky choice if she wanted to stop it here as she had times before or just keep going. If she put it off again then things could get even more 'hot' between them, in a very nonsexual manner. She didn't want that. The main thing going through her pretty blonde head was why she was doing this. Yes, she cared greatly for Bill, she was very fond of him and she knew she wanted more with him in terms of a relationship. But, before she had stopped herself because she didn't love him. She now knew that Bill did love her. Beatrix didn't want to fuck for the wrong reasons. She had fucked for all the wrong reasons before and she didn't want to make that mistake.

Maybe she loved him and maybe she didn't. The question was beginning to hurt her head and she decided to fuck it, or to put it in lay-man's terms; fuck Bill.

She blinked hard and came out of her revere. Her hands wandered down to her own under garment and she slipped them off. This was much easier to do and she kicked them off effortlessly. There she was naked, beneath him, and ready. She knew if she didn't do it soon she would start denying the truth again. And it was hard enough for her to admit the truth to get this far, she wasn't going to turn back on it.

For the first time during all of this, it now dawned upon Bill that this was really happening. He had built up so much wariness about it that it took her last act of clothing removal to finally make it a full reality to him.

How long had this inevitable conclusion been building? It was difficult to say.......but most likely longer than he realized or was even willing to admit. Oh sure, he'd thought about this, but he never actually thought it would happen. There was still the constantly nagging question....why? Why did Beatrix want to do this with him? He wasn't complaining, that's for damn sure. But, she was absolutely beautiful, she was smart, funny....well, she was all of that "too good to be true" stuff. She could be out with all sorts of guys her age...good looking nice dudes with normal jobs, sleek pecks, and nice cheekbones. Instead, well....here she was with him. Not that Bill had a bad self image or felt he didn't deserve this....he'd slept with more than enough beautiful women in his life. When he was younger, it had been easier of course....but even now, he could still get away with it. But nobody like Beatrix.....nobody even close.

He looked down at her for sometime, well...it couldn't have been longer than thirty seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. What she was must be thinking right now was completely beyond his grasp, not something he was used to. But...for once, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know. What he did know was that he wanted her, she was willing, he was beyond willing, and everything was laid out right there. It was just a matter of taking that last step.

Leaning down on his elbows, he brought his hands up to hold that breathtaking face of hers. He was tempted to make one last witty little comment....god, there was so many possibilities here....but wisely, because he couldn't bare the thought of him ruining it now like this, he choose to save that for another time, if she let him do this to her again....which was getting a little too far ahead of himself. He let his look linger on her face just a moment longer.....and then, clasping a hand onto her knee, he took that final step and the inevitable fates of both of them changed forever.

The whole experience would be quite a memory for both of them to look back on. They had finally done it. It was something they subconsciously had been working towards for five years. During those agonizing minutes of debating before it actually happened Beatrix had made the 'best' choice so far in her life. She had stopped denying the truth that she wanted Bill and he wanted her and that it was perfect.

In ways it was majorly fucked up; the whole concept...but once finished, it couldn't of been more right.

Every sexual interaction she had thus far in her life was now a mere speck of blood compared to what she just experienced. Beatrix almost wanted to scold herself for not taking that step sooner but she knew that if she had it would have been wrong. She needed to work up to that point and the results were well worth it.

Bill was...amazing in bed, to put it simply. Who knew a killer could be so gentle, loving, and passionate? Weird things happened when one was in love. Ah, but it came back to a daunting question. What happened surely wasn't a pity fuck and it wasn't just a fuck because she knew she wanted him. It was something far greater than that.

The tall blonde, bangs stuck to the side of her temple, her naked body gleaming in sweat was now contently nestled against her 'lover'. Her back was to him and her head was leaning against his chest as a thin sheet was draped over their forms. Her breathing was finally beginning to calm down and blue hues were half lidded. She held a 'real' blissful smile on her face. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this content.

She shifted her head that was lying on his out stretched arm that was being used as a pillow. "Bill..." she breathed in a voice barely above a whisper. It was hard to tell if she spoke his name because she just wanted to let it roll across her tongue or she wanted his attention.

There was sex....and there was sex. That....well...that had by far been the latter...whatever the hell that was...who knew...it was too difficult to explain. It was like trying to explain a weird but wonderful dream, you tried to put it into words.....but it was impossible. There was nothing like 'the first time' with somebody. Bill would never forget what had just transpired, no matter what happened after....he would return to that moment, again and again. Not to relive it out of some perverted pleasure, but to cherish that memory of when the heart and soul did their damndest to translate physically. He cherished it for Beatrix, he cherished it because it reminded him he was still all too human....later, he'd cherish it because it was a way to remember her without an ounce of tainted betrayal.

Well anyways, maybe that was being a little poetic for fucking. But that's how Bill felt about it, and he always would. Every sexual experience he'd ever had seemed hallow and thin compared to what had just happened. Maybe it had all been a very long dress rehearsal for the real thing that he had now just lived through. He had done the best he possibly could have because he wanted to maker her happy. He didn't need to make himself happy, he was just happy to have done it. But he was also happy because, knowing that he loved her....he did not doubt that one bit now, he had done it out of love. Doing something out of pure love...........well....that perhaps truly was a first.

He was awash with that "after sex" feeling....drowsy, euphoric, a little woozy....but most of all completely and utterly content. Content with himself, content with his life as fucked up as it was, content with what he'd done and at the highest, content with the woman lying next to him.

His outside arm was draped over her torso, fingers resting on top of her hand, as her back lay cradled against his chest. He could feel his hair slightly plastered to his still sweaty face, and was sure it looked rather ungainly...but after what she'd just seen...well he obviously didn't need to care anymore. He shifted his "pillow" arm slightly as she moved her head to speak to him. He thought she'd said his name, but he wasn't sure....he was still pretty out of it. Tilting his head down, he rested it on top of her shoulder, eyes almost completely closed. With a slight turn, he kissed her softly behind the ear, "Hrm?" he queried in a gentle tone.

She let her fingers lace between the fingers of the hand that was on top of hers and she didn't respond to his inquiry for a good minute. She was stoic, content, and basically washed over with exhaustion. She felt like she had just been given a sedative but this time it was self induced, making it all that much more enjoyable. If she let her eyes close she knew there was a possibility of dosing off and she didn't want that. She wanted to last in one of the best moments she'd share with Bill.

It took a lot for her to say what she had planned to say. Beatrix had to completely submit herself to the truth and the truth was a hard pill to swallow.

She finally spoke, softly, truthfully, and confidently, "I love you." As sappy as it sounded she couldn't have been happier to get it out. It made this whole thing become more clear and logical. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and from now on she was going to have a 'slightly' easier time dealing with things that pertained to 'them'. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against his arm and let her eye lids drift shut.

It was still up for debate if Bill had a heart. But at that moment, his heart or whatever one argued was in the place of it, took a leaping jump. There was no debate about that, he felt it....down to his very core. He raised his head fractionally from her shoulder, eyes suddenly wide open and looking at her with indescribable affection and perhaps just a tad of scrutiny. Even in his current state, Bill could still detect a lie and Beatrix had not lied to him. She had said the complete truth and best of all, she had told the most important truth she would ever tell him. Sure, she'd lie to him in the future, but he'd always have that truth. She perhaps would even deny it, attempt to retract it later on. But he knew....he would always know that truth. It was the truth he'd cling to in the darkness. It was his truth.

He stared at her for a few seconds, watching her eyelids droop shut. He thought, perhaps those three words had taken more out of her than all of the physical activity that had just transpired. That he could understand. He couldn't have been easy to admit to loving, or even come to loving in the first place and Bill knew that. Suddenly, he wanted to talk to her, tell her so many things he'd never told her.....not important things, not very deep or meaningful things....just things....but he knew he would have time for that later on. Besides, he realized now how many women he'd bored to death with pillow talk that simply went over most of their heads.....then again, Beatrix was the only one who'd listen and understand.

He settled his chin back down on her shoulder, eyes fixated on the wall in a look of wonderment. After a few minutes, he forced himself to stop thinking so much....and let his former feelings of drowsiness seep through that sudden rush of adrenaline. He wrapped his arm even tighter around her body, pressing her against him in a very protective manner.

"I love you too, Kiddo," he whispered in her ear, before settling his head back down. Of course, she had been asleep for sometime, but he knew she would still hear him.


	6. An Enemy For Life

One thing Beatrix always disliked was waking up the next morning after sex. It usually ended up either the guy she was with was gone or she was trying to be gone before he woke up. This time she rolled over beneath the confides of the covers only to hit lightly against another warm body and not just any warm body, Bill's body. A smile inched across her groggy features and her eye lids crept open. Blue eyes met with brown for a brief moment before the tall blonde let out a soft moan. She rubbed a hand over her face to clear away the fact she was still half asleep and when she dropped her hand down she was still contently smiling. "How long have you been awake?"

"For sometime," Bill replied with a gentle smirk.

Bill was a chronic early riser and he had been awake for at least an hour already. There had been a very brief moment where he had thought of getting up and doing his usual morning workout and making some tea for himself coffee for Beatrix. But he quickly disposed of the normal routine idea when he found he much preferred the feel of her warm body next to his. He had spent the entire time watching her. At first she had been on her back, and propping himself up on an elbow, he watched her face brighten as the morning sun gradually lightened up the room by way of the two narrow partially curtained windows on each side of the room. Eventually, she had rolled over and then he observed her back. He found two tiny scars there...just faint etchings really. He hadn't made any attempt to wake her, for one....he knew better and two, he loved watching her like this....she looked so contented and angelic it was hard to believe she was in fact a viciously effective killer. Bill let the smirk melt into a genuine smile, he reached over and picked up one of her curled up hands, giving it a small kiss. "How are feeling this morning?" he asked in a soft voice. He himself, felt just about as goddamn good as he'd ever felt in his entire life.

"Good," was the typical and blunt reply Beatrix was known to give when it came to matters of how she was feeling. A gentle smirk crossed her waking features and she made no movement to move her head from the plush pillow. She was terribly comfortable and unless she could come up with a really good reason for getting out bed she wasn't moving.

Bill made a small, "Hrm," remark at Beatrix's blunt reply. He wasn't upset over it of course, that was a typical Beatrix thing, and something he was growing more and more used to. He would have liked to have known how she felt, but by the look on her face...he had a generally good idea. She looked happy.......probably the most happy he'd ever seen her. That in itself, aside from all that had happened the night before, made him just as happy.

The fact that Bill had been watching her for sometime was less daunting than she first perceived. She loathed the fact that she could trust Bill well enough to allow him to watch her while she slept. She knew sleep, especially deep sleep, or even a coma was very dangerous because it left one vulnerable against anything. A single hand came up and muffled an oncoming yawn in which she gulped down. Eyelids reopened and fell upon him fondly. "And how are you feeling?"

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling contentedly. "I feel..........really fucking happy....." he said, giving her a side glance and smirk. How long ago was it that they had had that "really fucking happy" discussion? It couldn't have been that long but it seemed like ages ago. So far she hadn't seemed regretful in the slightest, and Bill could only hope that feeling lasted for her.....because there was something very right about all of it.....in a very wrong way.

But, he wasn't going to prod, nor ask if Beatrix knew what she was doing and when she made her mind up she was pretty damn set on it....just like himself. He turned his head to look at her, "You have two scars on your back." She most likely already knew that, but it was just another moment of Bill randomness.

Beatrix laughed and this only made the thin contented smile she displayed earlier widen. "Yes," she said, her eyebrows raising a fraction. "One is from the bullet I took last year and the other one I'm not entirely sure. I think it's from the airport stabbing but I remember that being farther up." She trailed off and shrugged the one shoulder she wasn't lying on. She had an assortment of scars, some more prominent than others. Even though she didn't act like it she took very good care of her battle wounds, which helped limit the scarring affect. Either way she'd always have scars and there would be those few that were connected with bitter memories.

Beatrix gave brief thought to his comment on being really fucking happy but she wasn't going to openly admit it that she felt the same. She had admitted enough last night to last her a lifetime of lies. She tucked a hand beneath her cheek and openly stared at him with no regrets.

Bill smiled, "You'll get more.....over time.....which, is something of a pity," he hated to see such beauty marred...but then again, when that beauty was being marred to kill for him...he didn't mind so much. As for himself, he didn't really care...he'd stopped caring long ago. After a moment longer of pensively looking up at the ceiling, he rolled over to face her, "So.....what type of woman are you? An eggs and bacon kind, or a bagel and fruit kind?" He smiled widely, knowing already which one she most likely was after having "worked" with her so long, Bill often felt like he already knew most of her little quarks...but it was fun to ask anyways. It made everything seem a little more "normal".....if that was possible.

He put on a mock serious face, "Wait...hrm....lets course....cream and sugar....an entire fucking bag of sugar if I'm not mistaken. What else....," he put a finger to his chin, "...ah..no..no newspaper for you...TV perhaps..." It was obvious he wanted to make her happy, he knew she often didn't want him to try, but Bill couldn't help himself. He had always been a spoiler...he always would be.

Any other time Beatrix would have found herself forced into 'disliking' Bill's need to spoil but this time she was all for it. She wasn't spoiled as a child and that invoked a lot of her personality traits that she had today. So, as any deprived child she jumped at the chance to gain back what she missed in her younger years, but at a much higher level.

She gave him a passive look and picked her head off the pillow to look down at him. Layers of blonde locks were matted and frizzed but in an organized manner. The grogginess was beginning to dissipate from her facial features. "Bacon and eggs-over easy, coffee, and T.V." She paused and pursed her lips together although that smile curved at the edges.

"You fucker," She sat up, an arm coming to fold against her chest as she held the sheet at her neck line, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and glanced at him over her shoulder. "I'm starting to worry that you know almost too much about me. Even if they are the 'little' things." Of course, this was all said in a loving tease. She respected the fact that Bill was trying for something on the normal side and she wasn't about to pass up the chance.

Bill smirked over at her, a good amount of the sadistic bastard glint seeping in there. "I thought so," he chuckled at the description of her preferences. She was right of course, he did know her all too well.....and now...well....he knew her even better. Bill made it a habit to know things about people, little things....superficial things, even things that were thought of as silly. He firmly believed that even the slightest bit of knowledge could be useful. It was a killer's habit, know thine friends and lovers as well as thine enemies.....or something fancy ass sounding like that. In this case of course, he used his powers for good not evil.

He watched her intensely as she crossed the room and went into the adjoining bathroom. After a moment, he too got up and wrapping himself in a black silk oriental looking bathrobe, he left Beatrix to whatever she needed to do and headed for the kitchen.

Bill was a decent cook, but he wasn't a great cook...he would have liked to have been better....it was an essential talent for being an all around "gentleman killer" type. But, sadly he'd never had enough time to devote to really learning much and Nikishi had taken over many of the duties. But he as sure as hell could cook bacon and eggs over easy.

Twenty minutes later everything was done. When Beatrix emerged into the living room/dining room area, there was a plate of piping hot bacon and over easy eggs sitting out for her on the bar. A large cup of coffee was sitting next to it...with a small pitcher of cream...and seeing as Bill was never one to pass up a smart ass joke, an entire bag of sugar sat there as well. The TV was on, a semi-local San Diego morning newscast running at low volume.

Bill came out of the kitchen a few minutes later, a cup of tea in one hand and a plate of mixed fruit and granola in the other. He set these down at the bar and gave Beatrix an appraising smile, "There you are Kiddo..." he gestured down at her plate, with a humorous glint in his eye, "...a triple bypass surgery just waiting to happen."

Beatrix now sat at the bar wearing what she wore yesterday since it was her only set and she didn't desire to borrow anything today. Her hair was combed out, her face was washed, and she looked much more awake and refreshed. Slender brows narrowed as she viewed the assortment of breakfast before her. She daintily picked up the bag of sugar, gave it a fleeting inspection as if to take in the full essence of the joke, and let it fall back to the counter with a dramatic thud.

"Do you want my ass to get fat or are you being a smart ass," she questioned quietly with intended sarcasm. "Either way, I'm not amused." Actually she was very amused. Leave it to Bill to turn breakfast into a sadistic joke and more importantly so a joke she found equally funny. Even if she wasn't going to outwardly laugh. Long white fingers laced around the handle of the jug of cream and poured it into her coffee mug. Blue eyes glanced over the area, searching for something, and unable to locate it she turned her eyes on Bill. "Do you have a packet of sugar I could use?"

Bill watched her take the whole "sugar bag" thing in with a quirky smile. He loved little jokes and Beatrix was no stranger to his eccentric sense of humor. She was playing it straight, but he knew....she thought it was funny. He raised his eyebrows, "Ah very well," he said in some rather badly impersonated British butler voice, "one sugar packet my dear...as you command," with a smirk he turned back into the kitchen and retuned a few moments later daintily holding one sugar packet in the middle of his large palm. He picked it up equally as daintily in-between to fingers and set it down softly next to her coffee mug. "Viola!" Chuckling, he sat down on the stool next to her and pulled in his own plate of food...which was noticeably different than what Beatrix was eating. He then idly began shuffling through the newspaper that was sitting there...which was of course, the New York Times. Beatrix seemed content to eat and watch TV. Bill had left the remote near her plate in case she desired to watch something else.

And thus, they sat like that for a few minutes.....a brief picture of well....almost normal partnered tranquility. The TV prattled on, they both sipped their drinks, Bill casually turned pages in his newspaper while eating a little distractedly. In the middle of the living room the Hanzo sword sat on it's stand, the bright pink bear still sitting next to it, a funny reminder and a strange juxtaposition.

There was no missing Bill's extremely good mood, he kept glancing over at Beatrix and giving her warm smiles and at one point even leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Bill was a bastard yes, but he was a bastard in love.

By the time the early morning talk show was through with rambling on about the 'problem' with guns, which Beatrix found highly amusing, she had finished her plate and pushed it to the side. "Well," she finally said. "I'm not dead." Which in more literal terms meant Bill's food was edible and maybe even good. The sarcastic glint in her blue eyes was hard to miss. In all reality and without any denial of the truth Beatrix was very, very happy. Who knew sex could make things so much better? She planned to let nothing ruin the next twenty four hours because she wanted desperately to stay in this very tranquil state.

She slid around in the stool to face him. "My usual routine in the morning is shower, eat, and then come here. Seeing as I'm already here what is your routine?" Beatrix didn't know that much about Bill, not the superficial things that Bill seemed to take pride on knowing. She stuck with the basics and some deeper things that only she knew and that she found more satisfaction in knowing.

Bill looked pleasantly surprised that Beatrix had asked him that question. Usually he was the one asking those type of things. "Well," he set down his paper, turning towards her with a genial smile, "I generally get up fairly early....I like to be up before the sun rises. First, I sit here for awhile...reading my paper, just like this," he gestured to the counter. "I like to read in silence, but sometimes with music in the background. I eat a light breakfast, nothing greasy. Then I change into appropriate attire and go outside to work out. Usually I meditate first....if I time this right; I can be doing this right as the sun rises. Then a workout, Tai Chi....sometimes something a little more intense, depends on how I feel," he shrugged, "After that, shower, shave and change. Then, I usually get down to work, make a few phone calls.....you or somebody else tends to show up at that point." He paused, "That's pretty much what I've been doing for the last ten years or so.....not terribly exciting, but it works for me." Bill realized that all sounded pretty ho hum and boring, but it was true. He found that nowadays things tended to run much more smoothly if he kept things at an orderly pace. He regarded her for a moment, and then chuckled, "Funny...how people romanticize the lives of killers."

Beatrix pursed her lips. "Mmm, sounds fascinating," she cooed in an overly dramatic tone. Actually she liked the idea of routines. She tried to stick to her own routine but as hard as she tried one thing was never the same. It added flare to her 'dull' life, not that she didn't have enough of that flare. Blue eyes shifted from him and over to the aesthetic hanging wall clock. "Well, seeing that it's eleven o'clock I'd say you have just enough time to shave and get dressed before you can make a few phone calls," she speculated matter-of-factly.

Bill raised his eyebrows, "Oh, I see how it is.....now your done with me and your sending me on my way," he teased, sliding off of the stool, "Had enough of ol' Bill for a day...." he chuckled with good humor. "I'm terribly hurt. Actually, your right..." he picked up his plate, "I should probably get something done today." He disappeared into the kitchen with his plate and returned to the bar. Leaning up against the counter close to Beatrix. He reached out and ran a hand through her combed back hair with an affectionate tilt of the head, "But I would hope that later-"

But he was cut off, when the sound of the front door being slammed open echoed throughout the room. "BILL YOU ASSHOLE!" It was distinctly Elle's voice, and she sounded just a wee bit pissed off. Bill turned slowly towards the entryway, his entire expression changing. The sound of tapping high heels gradually grew louder until the tall lanky form of Elle emerged into the room. She came to a halting stop in the middle of the room. Her attire was appropriately "Elle" and she was clutching at a huge metal studded purse. "Well...fuckidy fuck....isn't this grand!" She sneered, "Nice robe Bill..."

"Thank you Elle," Bill replied softly, his face stony.

Elle looked at Beatrix, opening her mouth to say something but she just stood there stuck on her own words.

Bill cleared his throat, standing up straighter to cross his arms, "You were saying Elle...?"

Elle blinked her eye, "About your robe?"

"No...." Bill frowned, "...Bill you asshole..."

"OH! That's right!" She slammed her purse down on the coffee table, which caused a visible cringe from Bill, "Bill you asshole!!!! That was the worst assignment I have ever been on!!"

"And why was that Miss Driver?"

"It FUCKING SUCKED!!!"

"What a wonderfully descriptive assessment."

Elle made a frustrated noise and threw her hands up, "The target was this complete pervert.....augh.....and it was as hot as fucking hell...and my flight was delayed, they lost my fucking luggage....I got fucking food poisoning."

"You said you were immune," Bill replied flippantly.

"Well......I guess not...because I sure as hell did. And then, to top it all off, it turned out this fucker had a shitload of cronies...and they were all pro's....I barely got out alive!"

Bill stared at her straight faced as if he was almost regretful that she had gotten out alive.

Beatrix watched everything transpire with a mellow dramatic façade. The one-eyed-Viking-bitch had returned. In actual fact Beatrix hadn't seen Elle since 'hell' weekend and even then they did not converse much. Elle's whole entrance made Beatrix laugh internally. It was a fucked up way to end a nice night and a following morning. She very much regretted Elle's entrance as much as Bill. She wanted more of that tranquil alone time that was so rare. But she should have known it wouldn't last.

The tall blonde had remained quiet and watchful for awhile but the temptation was too much. She couldn't sit there and watch Elle and Bill bicker without joining in. "Too bad. On your gravestone we could have put; 'L' Driver, died gallantly during a—quote un quote 'Fucking sucked' assignment. She will be...missed," she mused quietly as she stayed on the stool, hands on her thighs.

Bill laughed at Beatrix's comment, giving Elle a wide wolfish grin. "Good one Kiddo...." He wrapped his knuckles on the marble topped bar and then leaned against it casually.

Elle looked completely appalled, and her cycloptic glare bounced between the two of them, "What the fuck is this?" Just when she thought Bill had gotten over this "Bea favoritism" he seemed back on it with full force....even worse than before. God, it drove her fucking nuts! "I bet if Precious Kiddo here were to have the same shit happen to her on an assignment, you'd be all over her with...," she put her long hands along the sides of her face, mocking Bill's affectionate behavior, ".....'ohhh poor Kiddo this and poor Kiddo that'...." she put her hands on her hips, dropping the act, "...Fuck!" she spat.

Bill didn't look very amused at this, and his hard expression morphed quickly into a glare. Once again Elle was turning everything into some goddamn high school drama. Besides, he had been really enjoying the time he was having before she decided to arrive. This was not how he wanted to see it end. "I can assure you Elle, that Beatrix has been on equally as shitty assignments. Don't count yourself so special."

"Why not?" Elle retorted, "She does..."

"Maybe she does it for good reason."

"And I shouldn't?"

Elle had this way of throwing tantrums right in the front of the person she was having the tantrum about....which in most cases was Beatrix. Bill found it rude. Elle, of course...did it very much on purpose.

Beatrix's expression turned hard and scornful. For some reason Elle was starting to get under her skin. Usually Bea could brush away Elle's lack of maturity with smart ass remarks and retorts but today she was taking it more personally. "Okay, Elle," she began coolly. "Let's compare and see who has had more shitty assignments. So we can see which one of us is more...special."

Her hands folded over her chest and her blonde head cocked slightly. "On numerous assignments throughout my years working here I have been;," long white fingers extended as she counted off her list; "Maimed, shot, clipped, broke my hand once, poisoned, been beaten up, nearly raped," a momentary trail off. It'd be hard to catch which 'nearly' she was referring to. She picked up again, "Sliced, and stabbed consecutively three times." A pause. "Okay, your turn."

Bill, who had been watching Beatrix intensely, raised an eyebrow fractionally at her "nearly raped" comment, but he didn't say anything....for the moment, at least.

Elle had her hands on her hips, red lips pursed, as she listened to Beatrix list off her "bad experiences" She didn't look all too impressed, but then again...Elle rarely looked impressed at anything much.

"Alright," she took a few sauntering steps forward, long legs taking her much closer to Beatrix, "Here's a little list for ya...." she flipped her hand up to mock the other blonde's finger counting, "I've been...stabbed at least five times, shot three times, bruised constantly, had my fucking jaw broken, broke both of my hands, beaten up more times than I can remember, thrown down stairs...off roofs, through windows, strung up by my ankles, had all of my clothing stolen and was forced to fight naked, " there was no further questioning on that one, "....had an ice pick jabbed through my palm, hit by a car...twice.....oh....let's see what else....oh and nearly drowned in a pool full of crocodiles."

Bill was now smirking....which was barely winning over eye rolling. Why these two women constantly felt the need to do things like this was beyond him. He thought them both to be worthy warriors.....he simply didn't see the need for such comparisons. Bill, as he would be for sometime, was somewhat oblivious to Elle's true reasons to be so hateful and jealous towards Beatrix. Especially right now....he was feeling so strongly towards Beatrix, that much was being clouded and he was finding himself getting quite irritated with Elle in a very protective manner.

"Can't we just drop this line of bullshit ladies?" He spoke up in a mild voice.

"No..." Elle hissed, "I'm getting so fucking sick of this Bill." As if he wasn't!? He frowned.

"Is that all you've got Bea?" Elle turned her feral attention back on the other blonde.

"For the moment, yes," Beatrix said. She was unaltered by Elle's arrangement of 'sucky' assignments even if at the moment hers were better. "Besides," blue eyes stared cold into Elle's lone blue eye. "By the end, I'm sure I'll have gained injuries that far exceed yours." Bill was right, this was bullshit. What type of person would want to compare how fucked up they've been? Killers, but there even came a point where it became too much. Such as; trying to 'beat' your opponent at who can get the worst set of injuries. Why would anyone want to predict pain upon themselves? Killers would, because if you came back from an assignment with a big slash down the middle of your face and your target was left without a head, that meant you had far exceeded what needed to be accomplished.....or some shit like that.

"Whatever," Elle said in a rather juvenile tone of voice and flopped herself on the couch. She immediately grabbed her massive purse and began to dig through it like some crazy bag lady looking for that thing in her bag which was never there in the end.

Bill shook his head and rounded the bar, "Well ladies,....I have work to do.....if you two don't mind...." He didn't really like the idea of leaving them in the same room together, but then again he wasn't their fucking babysitter. "I may have an assignment for both of you....," he stopped at the entrance to the hallway, "..let me rephrase...I may have a separate assignment for each of you...." With that he glanced at Beatrix momentarily, a mixed look of regret, affection and a undercurrent of warm passion, and then turned to stroll down the hallway.

Elle was still rummaging through her purse, cursing softly to herself as she did so. After what seemed like far too long, she emerged with her object of desire, a small tube of lipstick. Flipping open a handheld mirror, she began to apply the makeup. Happy with her appearance, she then smacked her lips together, "So Bea," she flipped the mirror shut with a loud snap, "what's it like to be fucking your boss?" Of course, Elle really had no clue at how close she was to the truth...she merely said it out of suspicion well, and to irk the hell out of Beatrix.

At first Beatrix was taken aback by Elle's rounded question but she recovered quickly. It was hard to tell if Elle was trying to piss her off by making a false assumption or if she trying to piss her off by making a true assumption. Either way it felt as if Elle was cluing Beatrix in on that she knew 'everything'.

The tall blonde warrior rose from her seat at the bar and slowly sauntered over to join her counterpart. She settled on the couch opposite Elle and let her arms extend over the backing of the couch; her body slouched but held an amused demeanor with a serious undertone. "It's..." a trail off, she had to find the right word. Amazing was too cliché and good was too cryptic. "Splendid." A thin smile crept across her face, a satisfied and suggestive one.

Before Elle could catch herself, she let her jaw drop. Beatrix had called her bluff with her own bluff calling. Elle's eye narrowed, attempting to try to call it, but Beatrix was a damn good lair...almost as good as Bill. Bill....goddamn Bill. "Oh.....really......" was the only thing Elle could manage to say at the moment. She caught Beatrix's smile.....read those exact words in it......it looked genuine...but on the other hand....it was hard to tell. Fucking bitch.

Elle leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs. She regained her cool and smart ass composure, "Well that's very interesting Bea," she said, lighting up a cigarette...knowing full well Bill was absolutely against her smoking in his house. But, at the moment, she was up for throwing spite out any way she could. "Ya know, I always figured Bill was good in bed.....kept wondering how he was getting all those good looking bimbos." A statement sending insults both Bill and Beatrix's directions. "Besides," she took a long pull on her cigarette, blue eye leveled at Beatrix, "He is something of a cradle robber......so you do......fit the bill perfectly....." she started laughing at her accidental pun on that remark. Elle's laugh was never very pleasant on the ears. "Oh god..." she slapped her thigh, "...that was a good one!" She continued laughing, inhaling again on her cigarette, "Mm...just give me a minute here Bea.....still trying to get over that one....."

Beatrix stared at Elle with a firm set expression. She didn't find that the least bit funny even if it was partially true. One thing she wasn't going to allow to happen was letting Elle ruin her good mood or not 'all' of her good mood. This took a large amount of self control and she had to bite her tongue down harshly. Her arms came to neatly cross over her chest and her legs were stretched out in front of her as she sat there while Elle's annoyingly pitched laugh rang in her ears. "Done?" she questioned flatly.

Elle's laugh died down at Beatrix's blunt word. She wiped a tear from her eye with a long finger, "Not sure yet....heh.....gimmie a minute," she took another drag from her cancer stick and leaned back, a smirk still evident on her face.

Beatrix was playing this cool. Elle knew that when her blonde counterpart got like this, it was difficult to crack that shell. Bea used to be so easy to get to...back in the day......nowadays she was proving to be much thicker skinned. Damn shame really....Elle had really enjoyed getting the better of her.

Thus far Bill hadn't noticed that Elle was gleefully smoking in his house, and she took full advantage of this fact by lighting up another cigarette the moment her first one was down to the filter. Glancing around and not finding an ashtray of any sort, she turned and stuck the cigarette butt into the hallow eye of a small Native American wood sculpture on the end table.

Armed with a new cigarette, Elle turned her attention back on Beatrix, who was sitting stoically with her arms still crossed. "Where was I?" Elle started, "Oh! Yes...that's right....Bill the chronic cradle robber.....well Bea...if your not lying out your ass, which is certainly a possibility, then congratulations on joining the ranks of brainless slutty blondes. I've been around here a hell of allot longer than you, and I've seen 'em come and go like junkies to the candyman." Her eye widened, as she leaned forward, "You should feel real special Bea.....at least you're a true blonde...then again, maybe not...have to ask Bill on that one..." She sneered, her repertoire of insults getting lower and lower as she attempted to get some sort of reaction out of her rival.

Beatrix sat there for a good five daunting seconds before Elle's words fully registered in her head. She was trying to be cool and not crack. Over the years she had built up a strong shell to keep Elle's smart ass and immature criticism from breaking it but sometimes it was a harder task than first anticipated. She slowly sat up from her slouched posture and set hands firmly against the couch as if to restrain herself from jumping out and cutting Elle's throat.

She finally spoke up, her tone over laced with injurious possibilities, "At least I've joined the ranks of 'special' brainless slutty blondes. You've yet to get there." Her chin tilted towards her chest. "Oh, and it is real, so you don't have to bother asking Bill."

"Mmm," Elle replied, cigarette in her mouth, she exhaled, "Well.....how very good for you, I-"

But she froze, when Bill's voice floated up the hallway like a death toll.

"ELLE!"

There was a few seconds where Elle had a look of sheer panic on her face, she scrambled around on the couch looking desperately for another makeshift ashtray...but there was nothing, save for the other eye of that poor wooden sculpture. She tried to jam her lit cigarette in there, but the wood instantly began smoking and she quickly removed it, "Shit..." she hissed under her breath, turning the other direction.

But it was too late, Bill had reached the living room. Fully dressed and for some reason, but not entirely out of the norm, wearing a pistol at his side. He swooped down on her. "Jesus Christ Elle!" He snatched the cigarette from her hand with a violent grab and snubbed it in between his fingers, "I can't even count how many times I've told you to not fucking smoke in my house!" He glared down at her with fury.

Elle's demeanor had instantly changed and she went from a self confident vindictive bitch to a weak crumbling woman. "I'm sorry Bill.....I........."

Bill waited silently, thumbs tucked into his belt.

".....won't do it again....." she mumbled in a barely audible voice. Her eyelid was hooded over, but with a quick glance at Beatrix, she threw in a subtle death delivering glare in the other blonde's direction.

She more or less avoided the glare by not registering it. Beatrix casually rose from her seat, sauntered around, and over to Bill. She knew for a fact that Elle was far from through criticizing her, Bill's appearance only delayed the inevitable. This didn't daunt Beatrix, it just made her life all the more challenging. As she came up alongside Bill she idly laced an arm through his own and leaned into him. This action was done in the purest of intentions; these intentions being to throw her own spite in Elle's direction as well as gain back some of that tranquility she felt before by being near Bill. Her expression remained casual as she said, "Don't be too mad at her, Bill." Beatrix sticking up for Elle? Hardly. She put on a coy smile. "She is still recovering from learning our dirty little secret."

Bill raised an eyebrow as Beatrix admitted this, giving her a small little smirk to boot. It was a little surprising, but he was more than happy that she had. He laced his fingers through hers, never one to shy away from affection. His full attention was now turned upon her, his anger towards Elle completely forgotten. He didn't say anything, but the amused and warm expression on his face said enough. Her close presence was enough to make him forget nearly everything.

Elle stared agape at the two of them this was possibly the most shocked she had looked in a long time. "Oh...my..fucking...god...." she breathed. Beatrix hadn't been lying. Up until that point, Elle had firmly been holding onto the belief that Beatrix had in fact been lying her ass off. She had been playing along in an attempt to piss her rival off....but now.....it seemed things had taken a turn for the truth. She would never, ever forgive Beatrix for this one....ever! She had already held such hostility towards her, now....it was crossing a much darker line. There was no missing the look on Bill's face.....both of their postures. It was no lie. Elle swallowed down on an angry lump in her throat, her vicious temper rising. It was too much, she had to get out of here.....she had to leave.....now....

Elle stood up suddenly, and grabbed her purse. She rounded the couch, trying to get as far away from them as possible, "Just wanted to tell you about the assignment Bill," she said in a slightly too loud, tight rushed voice, her eye looking at anything but them, "Think I need to go now.....," she rushed for the door, "I'll talk to you later...." She bolted out and slammed the door behind her.

Bill stood looking after her with a slightly quizzical look on his face.

Beatrix knew what she had said and done would send Elle off. Beatrix could be a lying bitch and when it came down to the heinous fact that she wasn't lying for once, would send anyone off the edge. Unfortunately Beatrix knew she had hit Elle were it hurt. Unlike Bill she knew what Elle's real hatred was towards. Perhaps it was better that he didn't know and would forever remain oblivious to it.

She 'almost' wanted to take back what she said, because in her subconscious she knew that that would have very bad repercussions. She didn't regret it; Elle deserved it. She only wanted to rephrase it if she could. But the damage was done.

Bea leaned her head on Bill's shoulder and stared off in the same direction. "I have successfully gained myself an enemy for life," she commented quietly.

Bill wrapped his arm around her waist, enjoying the feel of her head on his shoulder. He glanced down at her, knowing Beatrix was more than accurate on that statement. Elle and Beatrix had always had something of a rivalry...even from the very beginning. At first, it was somewhat playful, almost a joke between the two blondes. Bill had found it amusing and somewhat enduring, he had liked to watch them bicker....it was never boring at the very least. But, in the last year....the blonde rivalry had begun to turn sour. He hadn't been blind to it. And very quickly it was no longer amusing. Ever since that bizarre Alaskan assignment, where the two of them had literally gotten into a bloody brawl, he'd been very wary of their relationship. Now, it appeared things were only getting worse.

"Enemies can't be avoided Kiddo," he said softly, "That's just life. I can't even begin to count how many enemies I have. There's an army of people out there, just looking to kill me," he chuckled, somehow finding that amusing. "All out to kill Bill." His hand lifted from Beatrix's waist to comb idly through her blonde hair.

Beatrix laughed lightly. "Kill Bill, that rhymes." Her laughter soon died down as well as the humor. When Beatrix first learned of Elle's true hatred it was a hard pill to swallow but now the pill was smaller and the effects weren't as daunting, emotionally. She knew as 'sad' as it was that it was unavoidable and if she didn't accept it quickly there would be consequences. It was best to avoid what she could.

She wanted to feel closer and held a need for it as she wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other over his front to let hands hook at his shoulder. A makeshift embrace. Her expression was quite stoic. "What were you saying before Elle came in?"

Bill smiled warmly, very much enjoying this new turn of events in his and Beatrix's relationship. He had forgotten how nice it was to be with somebody like this, especially when he genuinely cared. "What was I saying.....before Elle came in......?" He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, in thought, "Oh....." he lifted his head, the thought sparking, "....I was saying....I was hoping that later on tonight...or maybe tomorrow...we could go do something...." he raised an eyebrow, "...fun...." This sort of phrase seemed strange coming from Bill, as if he wasn't exactly used to asking women out on real dates...at least not lately. "Maybe go into town......I know of this really great Italian restaurant....." he trailed off, eyes fixated on her as if momentarily lost. He smiled, "Sorry Kiddo.....still getting used to this....." Another Bill rarity, as he made an apology for a supposed weakness, "I'm trying to remember the last time I attempted to do this......" he laughed at himself. Funny how somebody so confident in himself and his abilities could suddenly become just like every other stumbling man out in the world.

Beatrix turned her head to him with raised eyebrows. He was asking her out on a date? It was so funny that it was kind of sweet. There went Bill on his sweet tangent that was only reserved for her. "I'd like that," she stated softly and truthfully. Like Bill she hadn't gone out somewhere fun in a very long time. Well, there was that trip to Vegas but even then the definition of fun was to be debated. She also hadn't been out on a date in who knew how long. It was hard to forget how to do certain things during a date. It came as second nature.

She pulled away out of his embrace not to get away but to turn face to face with him. A thin smile was on her face and blue eyes were glowing. "Tomorrow night sounds splendid. You can pick me up at eight." There she went taking the lead female role of preparing the night. She smirked with a hint of sadism.

Bill smiled, in that reserved sweet smile, eyelids hooded, "Eight sounds splendid." He didn't seem to mind her taking of control, in fact he rather liked it. He seemed very close to kissing her, but then he spoke up, "But first.....," he pulled away a little, "...I have an assignment for you.....I was going to do it myself actually, but Raul just called me...." he motioned down to the gun he was wearing, "...you remember Raul....white carpet guy....I guess he's got some assholes pestering him about a botched deal. He does this now and then, wants somebody over there to clean it up....." Bill shrugged, "He pays well....anyways, so I'm going to send you off on this other thing....." He paused, trying to recall the assignment, "It's in Southern Texas...your old stomping grounds...shouldn't take you more than few hours to get there." He slipped a hand in his jacket and somewhat suggestively stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans. "You should be able to finish it by tomorrow night......easily....." He leaned towards her, "Remember, I'm never late...." he said softly, kissing her with a newly felt tenderness.


	7. A Killer Date

Southern Texas as always, was hot and dusty. Beatrix's target was a shady pawn shop owner. He'd been laundering money for a client of Bill's and the client was somewhat unhappy with the man's services....suspecting him of perhaps dipping a little bit too much into the pot himself. The "Stop N Cash" pawn shop was equally as gritty and dusty as the buildings surrounding it. A large bull dog sat out in front...looking not entirely friendly. A holey screen door sat flapping in the wind behind the resting animal. There were crappy electronics, run down instruments and even a few cheap swords in the windows. It didn't appear the shop was much of a hot spot around here, most likely the reason why the owner was finding other ways to make money.

Upon her arrival, nobody seemed to take much notice of the tall blonde. Beatrix sauntered into the pawn shop clad in a pair of tight blue jeans and a zipped up black leather jacket, on her feet were a pair of sandals which took away from the whole bad ass affect, not that she was going for it to begin with. Strapped to her back was that stylish katana blade that Bill had given her all those months ago. She loved when she could strut around with the thing and not be given a second glance. Such was the situation in the pawn shop. She made a casual stride down the aisle until she approached the counter. She waited patiently in line as an older man of Hispanic origin paid for a few things. It didn't take long until it was the tall blonde's turn at the register. She looked over to the man before her; late forties, a suave mustache, masculine but not overly so, and he wore a white t-shirt with numerous stains. He gave her a mere glance and returned to a note pad he had been reviewing. "Yeah?"

Beatrix effortlessly snatched the handle behind her back and with a soft swoosh she projected her weapon. The cashier looked up obviously not alarmed by it. "I'd like an estimate on this, please," she said as she held the sword out horizontal to the counter, the blade glinting off the light from the overhead lamps.

The cashier pushed away the note pad he had been intently viewing and now viewed the blade before him. He put a hand to his chin and made a 'hmm' noise. Once through he turned to call over his shoulder, "Hey Gary! Come take a look at this one, will ya!"

Gary was younger than his coworker. A short stocky man in his early thirties with a head of spiky dark hair and a thin face. He was chewing on a wad of gum. He approached the counter from the back room, wearing a jean jacket and a pair of cargo pants. "Yeah...yeah...Paul...I'm coming..." he mumbled and let himself in behind the counter area. He glanced briefly at Beatrix, and then looked down at the sword that was splayed out on the counter.

He leaned over and began inspecting it closer, after a moment he let out a low whistle, "Damn....that's a nice blade....this was made in Japan....no bullshit there...for sure on that......" he ran a finger lightly over the blade, cutting himself slightly, "Fuck....." he pulled his finger back. He glanced up at Beatrix again with beady grey eyes and flipped the blade over revealing the inscription, he gave Paul a side smile, and then looked up at the tall blonde in amusement, "I gotcha lady," he winked, "I've seen allot of women pawn jewelry and shit but I can't say I've ever seen a woman pawn a sword." He went back to inspecting the weapon, "Well....whatever he did to ya....this guy coulda bought a nice car for what it cost to have this made...." He stood up straight, thumbs in his pockets, "But...around here alls we can give ya is 250 bucks for that piece of work....it's all we can give ya, take it or leave it." He shrugged, playing up the cool pawn shop negotiation act. "Mind if I see the scabbard?" he added after a moment, smacking loudly on his gum.

The tall blonde watched her target, Gary with a passive demeanor. The guy looked like an asshole but she really had nothing against the guy. Well, his obnoxious gum chewing was starting to irk her. She tilted her chin down, reached up a hand, and slipped the scabbard off her back. Beatrix hated watching anyone handle her weapons. She was partial to them. But, she had to suck it up and allow it since this was all to go along with her plan of action. She settled it down next to the sword on the counter. It was wooden, black, finely decorated a coiling of snakes, and various line designs. All in all it was a beautiful piece of work. It was no Hattori Hanzo blade nor scabbard but it was very nice and did the dirty assignments it was required to do. She narrowed her blue eyes on the two items. "250, aye?" She pursed her lips as if in deep thought. "She's not even a year old," referring to the sword. "And you want to give me 250 shitty dollars? I think we can do better gentlemen."

Gary gave a bemused little chuckle at Beatix's counter offer, still chewing at his gum. Ignoring her momentarily, he picked up the shiny black scabbard and inspected it, running a finger along the silver encrusted designs. "Real nice.....them is some badass lookin' snakes eh Paul? Looks sorta like some of them black mamba snakes to me." The other man nodded a grinning approval. After a moment, Gary set the scabbard back down next to the blade. He leaned on the counter, fixing Beatrix with a firm expression, "Look....lady...I aint gunna lie to ya....this sword musta cost at the very least....ten grand...it's a real nice piece of work. I aint seen a sword like it, not in person at least. But this aint fuckin' Beverly Hills alright? And year old or not, it don't make any difference," He waved a hand around the dusty run down store, "We just aint got that kinda money layin' around. Now, I said I'd offer ya 250...that's damn good money. Hell, Paul and I ain't paid 250 for anything in quite sometime...that's a real good offer around these parts and if you were smart you'd take it up." He put his thumbs through the loops of his pants, "Hell...your a real looker...so I'll give ya 300....but that's as high as I can go." Another smack of the gum, "So..whaddya say honey?"

Beatrix stared at Gary for a few moments before a hand swooped down and plucked the sword from the counter. She held the blade up vertical to her body as if to give it a final inspection before closing the deal. Blue eyes stared at her reflection that shimmered off the steel blade. If she was a greedy assed bitch she'd take the money first then kill him. But, she wasn't greedy. Hell, she had more money then these assholes could make in ten life times. Even if she was still being withheld her pay for the remaining three months she certainly wasn't desperate for loose change.

A smirk tugged at the edges of her lips. "Alright gentlemen..." She began but didn't finish, as with one quick maneuver Beatrix thrust the tip of the blade threw Gary's obnoxious pink bubble, into his mouth, and ceased the sharp tip at the back of his throat. In those mere seconds her 'pawn shopper' demeanor had fallen to take on that daunting killer glint. She glanced to Paul. "I changed my mind. I don't want to sell it." And with that she thrust the blade clean through to come out the back of Gary's head. The blood that exploded gave the shop a brand new essence.

And that was the incredibly grisly end of Gary, the owner of the "Stop n Cash" pawn shop. Nobody would loose too much sleep over his passing, not even his girlfriend...whom he'd had a tendency to hit when he was drunk. Besides, she'd been out with some other guy when Gary's basically headless body slumped to the ground.

Paul screamed, all attempt to cling onto his manliness long gone. He scrambled behind the counter shaking, as he curled himself into a fetal position. There was blood everywhere: the ceiling, the windows, dripping off the dusty merchandise. It looked like a scene from a chainsaw slasher movie......but it had all been done with the clean slice and pull of a samurai sword in the hands of the Black Mamba.

Paul was whimpering now, "Oh.....shit...." he rocked back and forth, "Jesus....lady.........don't kill me....please....I've got three kids......all boys....oh fuck.....don't do it..I don't wanna die...." his eyes were fixated on the side of the counter like a frightened deer in headlights. "Gary was a dick.....he had it comin'.....I know all about what he was doin'....he was dippin' into embezzled money, I saw him do it. Not me though," he shook his head violently, "I ain't done nothin'........don't kill me....oh god......"

Beatrix flicked her blade and let the staining of blood spray off in various directions. "I," she began coolly. "Was not sent to kill you." She hadn't flinched at all at the mutilated body of her target. Although that was one of her more gruesome killings, she kept a demeanor that was overly cool the entire time. She grabbed a rag off the edge of the counter and wiped it clean across the steel blade to get rid of what she couldn't spray off. Delicate long fingers picked up the scabbard and replaced her weapon of destruction, a soft ring admitted as she sealed it. "Have a nice day," the tall blonde warrior said as she swung her sword across her back, turned on her heels, and exited the bloody pawn shop.

Eight o'clock....sharp.

There was a rather loud roar of an engine outside of Beatrix's apartment...then it was shut off. A few moments later her doorbell rang. When Beatrix answered the door....if was, of course, Bill.

Bill was dressed to the hilt.....in a very Bill-ish way. So much so, it's worth explaining. On his feet, he wore a pair of dark grey most definitely real snakeskin cowboy boots. He was wearing a pair of black slim cut slacks, a Native American beaded belt topped off with a moderately small silver belt buckle encrusted with turquoise stones and featuring a pair of crossed pistols in the center. If asked about the make of the guns, he'd tell you they were "Colt 35 specials...of course." Tucked in, he was wearing a dark red, almost blood red, silk button up shirt, with two black Chinese characters embroidered on it, one on each side of the collar....these translated to Love and Death. Over this he was wearing an extremely expensive but well worn looking black leather coat, cut in a dress blazer style. The buttons on it were all the bottom caps off of 22 cal bullets. On his right hand he was sporting a massive turquoise ring...much larger than the one he had before, it must have been a recent acquisition. Under his shirt, which he still couldn't manage to button all the way up, was a long hanging silver necklace with a small arrowhead on it. His hair was tied back and to top it all off he had put a manly silver hoop into his pierced ear, something which he hadn't done in sometime.....the left ear naturally. Oh sure, he'd thought about wearing something a little more orthodox...but then he had come to realize the strange but amazing reality that it was Beatrix he was taking out, and decided to be nothing more than himself. Bill had always been and would always be "a dude"....on top of being "the man" and well....the Snake Charmer of course. This perhaps, somewhat over the top outfit was the culmination of those titles. A few feet behind him was parked a cherry red classic 1975 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Classic.....Special Edition. The bike was a large two seater and of course had all chrome stylings. Bill was certainly more of a car man than a bike man, but every now and then he got the bug to take his bike out...and besides, it was always a damn fun rush.

He stood there grinning at Beatrix, the bike behind him....the picture of every daughter's mother's worst nightmare.

"Oh my fucking God," was all Beatrix could say when she came out of the apartment. And she thought she had dressed 'peculiar' for the 'date'. She was wearing something that wasn't quite as unorthodox as what Bill was wearing. She was sporting a gypsy style skirt that flowed down to her ankles and was a pale purple coloring. Around her slimming waist was a taut camel shaded belt with strings hanging loose against the skirt. Fitting to her upper half was what appeared to be a ruffled tube-top, well almost a tube top if it weren't for the thin straps on her broad shoulders. Around her neck, taking the eye away from the amount of skin she was revealing was a necklace. The necklace was a red string decorated with oblong ivory and circular gold shimmering beads. She pulled blonde locks into a half pony tail with a pale yellow ribbon tied into a bow. On her feet to finish it off was a pair of black sandals decorated with an assortment of Indian style beadings. All in all she hadn't dressed as extravagantly as Bill. Not even close.

Her momentary fluster of shock dissipated and she took on a haughty appearance as she leaned against the open door frame. Blue eyes looked him over once from head to toe. She held a sarcastically tight smile. "Dammit Bill..." She trailed off. Beatrix had no clue what to say about his outfit. Hell, it was really funny and it was even funnier that he could pull it off without looking too stupid. She shook her head slowly and pushed from the door, closing it behind her.

Blue eyes settled on the Harley, it gave her something else to stare agog at. She tilted her blonde head to the side. "Nice bike." A glance to 'the biker'. "But I think it'd be cooler in yellow."

Bill could tell Beatrix was just more than a little shocked at his appearance. He wasn't exactly sure if that was a good thing or not....but he wasn't one to care much what people thought of him. He thought he was pretty cool....and that was enough. He gave her a wicked grin, eyebrows raised....as if to say "Yeah? So?" He liked dressing in this sort of stuff. Beatrix looked beautiful......as always. And her outfit was absolutely perfect for her, flattering, cute and yet oh so "Beatrix." He leaned forward as she closed the door and gave her a genial little kiss on the cheek, "You look very nice..." he said softly. At her comment about his bike, he shook his head, "Nah, yellow wouldn't fit this kind of bike....now maybe one of those new yellow Honda crotch rocket things....but not this beauty," he laid a hand on the front tire well. "This is all about the cherry red....."

He had a feeling she would wear a skirt, and he'd had second thoughts about bringing the bike...but luckily her skirt was very long and it wouldn't be much of a problem. He walked around to the back of the bike, removed the secondary black helmet and handed it to her. "Here ya go Kiddo....." he was glad that Beatrix wasn't too much of a priss when it came to her hair. Many women didn't like the idea of crushing their hair inside of a helmet. Putting on his own helmet, Bill climbed onto the bike and waited for Beatrix to do the same before he kicked on the engine. No electric start here, oh no....he was all about the classic kick start. He turned to her with the engine roaring and flipped up the visor on his helmet, "Hang on." his eyes creased with amusement, and he flipped down the visor. Pulling his hand back on the accelerator, the bike flew out of the apartment parking lot and began the short forty minute commute to San Diego.

Beatrix liked bikes. She didn't love them but she did like them as she liked any other motor vehicle. But taking a bike gave her a rush of adrenaline that was never something pass up. She wasn't sure if Bill had chosen to take this way of transportation because it was cool and went with his whole outfit or if he had other intentions for it. Of course he did. Beatrix had to hold onto something as they zoomed down the highway and that something was locking her arms around Bill's torso and leaning her body in close against his.

She peered over Bill's shoulder through the visor of her helmet and watched as the road passed by. Forty minutes was a long drive to be stuck on a bike. Luckily Beatrix wasn't much of a complainer. Finally they reached the San Diego area. It was bustling with people as expected on a Friday evening. No one gave the 'couple' a second glance as they stopped at one or two traffic lights. They fit in quite nicely with the atmosphere.

"Where's the restaurant?" She questioned loud enough to be heard over the engine.

Ah, but of course...Bill had multiple reasons for taking his bike. One of them of course being the fact that Beatrix had to cling onto him for dear life as he flew down the interstate at eighty miles an hour. But, he was glad when they did finally reach downtown San Diego. The Friday nightlife was already in full swing and there were people everywhere, and traffic was pretty hectic as people ran across the busy streets, laughing and having a good time. The crowd was mixed, but generally of the younger variety. A Harley with two people on it simply melted in. Bill turned his head slightly to address Beatrix's question, as they sat idle at a red light. "It's just up around the corner here," he said in a slightly loud tone of voice, as the engine even when idle, was still fairly loud. Finally, the light turned green and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a small-ish looking restaurant. There was valet parking out in front and a very sophisticated sign on the front read "Amare a la Sera" in saucy looking letters.

The valet, a young man with dark hair and sideburns gave Bill and Beatrix a rather strange look as Bill pulled the bike up to the valet station. Bill removed his helmet and climbed off the bike, tossing the helmet and his keys at the young man, "Have fun kid." The "kid" gawked momentarily at Beatrix as she climbed off the bike, and glancing back at Bill, he nodded, "No problem Mister." Once everything was situated there, Bill motioned to the door, and the two of them went inside.

The restaurant was of the expensive super romantic sort. It was very dark inside, the only lighting being from candlelight and very soft overhead lighting scattered around delicately. The tables were all extremely small booths with white tablecloths. It was fairly crowded, with extremely cozy looking couples taking up most of the booths. In the corner, there was an intimate looking dance floor where a small band played romantic cover songs. A few couples were dancing, very much into one another. The sound level was fairly low, with the band's music a non obtrusive soundtrack. Bill and Beatrix were greeted very kindly by a host, who took Bill's reservation and led them over to a table. He offered to take Bill's jacket, but Bill declined the offer. On their way to the table, Bill leaned in and whispered in Beatrix's ear, a hand on the small of her back, "So...it's a little over the top....but indulge me...." Once seated, their host informed them that their waiter would be by shortly and left them with a pleasant smile. It was obvious the staff here was very good at giving their guests discretion.

Beatrix was wearing a contented smile as she took a seat across from Bill at the rounded table. The restaurant was a very odd change of pace but not unwelcome. After the day Beatrix had she could use the whole tranquil and calming atmosphere. She was a little weary to the fact that Bill refused to hand over his jacket. Her guesses being, he had a pistol concealed beneath. But she hadn't felt anything there and the last thing she needed was something to ruin her hopes for enjoyable night. She picked up the menu and concealed her face behind it as she skimmed over the contents. Two minutes passed and Beatrix poked her head out from behind the menu. "I think I'm going to get the sun dried tomato glazed chicken over angel hair pasta." Slender brows raised a fraction. "What appeals to you?"

Bill had already decided on his choice of dinner plates and was onto looking over the wine list. He'd removed his jacket, but it was sitting very closely beside him. "Hrm...good choice...." he glanced at Beatrix over the wine list, "I'm going with the full lobster plate myself. They get some quite delicious lobster here, can't pass that up." Just then their waiter, a short thin balding man with a small mustache named Tony, came by and took their orders. On top of everything else, Bill ordered a bottle of 1981 Merlot. The wine list had no prices, so one could only imagine. Bill certainly wasn't out to impress Beatrix because, really what more could he do, after all the things she'd seen him do over the years? But he did like good wine now and then, and this was a perfect opportunity to indulge.

He gave Beatrix a smirk, "But....you're not overdoing it on the wine this time Kiddo, I know better now." He leaned back against the plush booth seating, taking a long glance around the restaurant. Even on a "date", one couldn't ignore the wary instincts of a killer. It was really just a habit and Bill quickly came back to look at Beatrix, reminding himself where he was.

"Not to mix business with pleasure," he said softly, picking up his silverware and beginning to unroll the white napkin, "But how did that pawn shop thing go? I'm assuming it was a fairly easy assignment...."

Beatrix was still holding a smirk on her angelic features from the wine comment. She was only going to have one glass and that was only to be courteous to Bill's generous wine selection. "Oh, yes, quite easy," she said quietly. Usually when he asked about assignments in public areas she kept quiet and discrete but here she could keep a moderate tone level and be a tad less cautious.

"The target, Gary, nice guy but I could see why someone would desire to hit him off." She picked up her own napkin and began to unfold it to reveal the silverware. "I came in asking for an estimate on my sword. Can you believe those fuckers were gonna give me 250 and maybe 300 for my good looks." She shook her head in disgust as she placed her fork on the plate. "I played 'pawn shopper' until I had enough." Her fingers were now laced around the stake knife. "So, I thrust," she made the motion with the knife, which could just as easily have been used for the bloody task, "...my blade into his mouth and out the other side." A satisfactory grin tugged her lips and blue eyes sparkled. "It was messy." She would have elaborated more on that part but at this moment the waiter came over with two wine glasses, and the Merlot.

Bill listened to Beatrix in fascination; he always loved hearing accounts of her kills. To him, it was enthralling. No doubt it was far from any sort of conversation that was going on at any of the other tables, but then again, it was doubtful that two of the world's deadliest killers were sitting together at any of the other tables either. He raised his eyebrows, momentarily, reaching for the wine bottle, "Two hundred fifty.....maybe...three hundred for your good looks?" He repeated with disbelief. He nearly choked, looking appalled, "You couldn't buy the fucking leather on the hilt of that sword for three hundred bucks." He wasn't about to spill the beans on how much it did cost, but it was pretty easy to guess. He shook his head, "Ignorant assholes...." Once he'd gotten over that shock, he chuckled, "Goddmamn Kiddo.....that's brutal...." he picked up the wine bottle, "I like it," he grinned at her with a sharkish smile. Using the supplied bottle opener, he popped open the wine bottle with expert ease and poured both of them full glasses.

The wine was very good....worth the price in Bill's opinion, which was much easier to say when you could afford it. Soon after, their food arrived. Which, looked equally as good....displayed fancifully, but in fairly good quantities for an expensive restaurant. Using his hands in the traditional manner, Bill cracked apart his lobster with somewhat disturbing but very clean effectiveness.

The conversation turned casual and amiable. The two of them could generally fall into this easy type of conversation when things were good between them...which at the moment, they most certainly were. In a place like this, it was easy to become oblivious to everybody else around you but the person sitting across from you....after all that was really the intention of the whole setting. Beatrix was being smart and was limiting herself to her one glass of wine.....leaving Bill with the task of drinking the rest himself. He could handle it just fine, but after five glasses he was feeling a little on the giddy side.....giddy in that Bill sort of sense that is.

Beatrix looked utterly stunning awash in the dim candlelight, and it was most likely the wine....but she had this somewhat fuzzy glow around her.....like he was watching her after dropping acid....a sensation Bill was admittedly rather familiar with. Her prominent but smooth collar bones cast shadows against her bare shoulders...tied up blonde hair a hazy gold frame around her beautifully angelic but deadly face....large blue eyes reflecting the flickering orange flame below her. She was talking to him, but he wasn't entirely sure what she was saying at the moment.

Bill blinked, leaning heavily on his elbow against the wall behind the booth. Their empty plates were pushed aside on the table, the nearly empty bottle of wine in front of him. "Do you want to order any dessert?" He asked suddenly, with just the slightest slur.

Beatrix was settled back in her seat, arms daintily folded over her chest in her slouched position. She felt full which was always a good thing, give or take the feeling that her stomach was bulging, which it wasn't. Blue eyes stoically drifted over to the man across from her. He was obviously a little off center and she was much more on center. Even so, she was overly happy. The night was turning out nicely and nothing had ruined it but Beatrix didn't keep her hopes up. The life of a killer was unpredictable, even for a killer whom was trying to be 'normal'.

"I'll pass," she replied lightly. Dessert sounded tempting but she was full and she didn't want to over do it. At this remark Bill waved down the waiter and retrieved the check. Beatrix turned her attention back to Bill as the waiter retreated. "If you're not going to allow me to pay for dinner then you can at least allow me to drive home." She fixed him with a mock glare. "Because there is no way in hell I am getting on a bike with you when you've just drank over half a fucking bottle of wine."

Bill smirked, as he regarded the check for a brief moment and reached around to retrieve his wallet, "I'm fine....." he stated, sounding overly confident, "...I just need to walk around a bit and burn it off..." He found the credit card he was looking for and placed it on the check. "Besides," he turned to her, "...we're not done yet....." a flash of a smile. Bill always had a plan, sometimes if was obvious, sometimes it wasn't.

The waiter took Bill's card and within five minutes they were out of the restaurant. The night air had cooled a bit, but it was still very pleasant outside. There were people out walking in droves happy, talking, some of them drunk. It was a typical Friday night downtown. Some shops were still open, cars stopped, stuck in downtown traffic.

Leaving their transportation still with the valet, the two of them took a stroll around the block...just like the numerous other couples around them. It was a so completely "normal", it was almost strange. Here, amongst the crowd...nobody seemed to neither care nor give a damn. There were no raised eyebrows, questions, rivalries, jealousies, anger or advice given to them for their own "good."

Bill watched the people pass by as he walked, a placid smile on his face. His arm was draped over Beatrix's shoulders. He surely wasn't drunk, but there was no missing the slight sluggishness of his movements.

Beatrix was enjoying the normalcy of their walk. She weaved her arm around his torso and strolled contently beside him. Blue eyes wandered about the area aimlessly with a stray glance in his direction every once and again. Her gaze sparked an immense fondness and affection. She blinked and turned her eyes to watch as a few 'lovey dovey' couples strolled by. Those that were all over one another and making out on benches. It'd be 'too' normal if Beatrix and Bill went and acted like that. She liked to show a public display of affection but only to those people she knew personally.

Both killers had been fairly quiet and they had walked at least half the distance around the block. For once Beatrix was content with the silence. She was happy to let it linger and enjoy the night life. Of course, Bill took notice of the large amount of PDA's going on.....he wasn't a big fan. Oh sure, he was definitely not a shy one for showing affection. But that thing....well, it just wasn't his sort of deal. He'd done that about thirty years ago maybe.....but not now. He didn't need to show off to others, which was really what that whole thing was about anyways. He knew Beatrix looked good, and he knew just about any man on that block would love to be in his shoes but one didn't need to gloat about it. The mere fact in itself was enough for him.

He didn't feel like talking much, which Beatrix seemed to agree upon and they walked like that for a good twenty minutes. Finally, rounding the block, Bill paused, "Ok....I think I'm alright now....." He gave Beatrix a warm look, taking her hand and walked back to the valet. He loved the way she kept looking at him, nobody ever looked at him like that nowadays. At the moment, he honestly didn't know what to say to her when she did that, so he simply returned the look.

Back on the motorcycle, they began winding back through downtown. Bill seemed to know exactly where he was going. And very gradually the nice yuppie downtown neighborhood gave away to a much shadier side of town. The cars became older, more run down. The people shabbier, angrier looking. Chain link fences and lawn chairs became more frequent than cute storefronts. The businesses tended to be bars, convenience stores and questionable looking eating establishments. It wasn't long before they parked in front of a large building, that looked somewhat like a bowling alley. A dirty sign read in front read, "The Burroughs." Getting off the bike, Bill spotted two kids...boys maybe ten years old, hanging out on the curb. They of course were instantly interested in the bike and its two occupants. It wasn't something you usually saw around these parts.

"Hey, you two," Bill addressed the boys, as he removed his helmet.

"Yeah....." one said, as they sauntered up, both wearing dirty jeans and wife beater shirts way too big for their skinny chests, and thin arms.

"You wanna make some money?"

One kid, blonde with buzzed hair, smirked, "Well...fuck yeah...of course we do...," his eyes narrowed, "What sorta shit do we have to do ta get it?"

"Nothing much," Bill pulled a hundred dollar bill out of wallet, holding it out in front of the kid's face, "All you two have to do is sit here and bullshit like your already doing. Watch this bike....if anybody touches it...you come inside and let me know right away. If either of you touch it," he glared down at the two boys, "And I'll know.....believe me.....then...I'll break both hands on each of you. And neither of you will be getting any action from yourself for at least three months But, if nothing happens to it by the time my lady friend and I leave...then," he flicked the money, "One for each of you."

Leave it to Bill to threaten children on a date, not to mention is such a sadistic but effective way. He knew what it was like to be kids like this....he knew what worked and didn't work. The boys exchanged glances, silently weighing the pros and cons of this deal. "Well?" Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Alright man....." the blonde kid replied, trying to look tough, "We've got your ass covered."

"Good," Bill nodded...letting the kids see the hundred bucks for a second longer and then putting it away. "Come on Kiddo," he put a hand on Beatrix's back and the two of them entered the building.

"The Burroughs" as it turns out was a local hangout. It was a bit difficult to describe. It was a bowling alley....an old 70's one at that. But it was also an arcade and billiards hall. As high brow as the Italian restaurant had been, this place was equally low brow. It was retro, outdated and the kind of place where you could just have fun and not have to care much about who saw you. You paid an entrance fee and then paid a nickel per game....cheap. The games in the arcade were completely outdated, in that totally funny sort of way....most of them from the 1980's. The crowd consisted mostly of young Hispanic males and a plethora of high school girls and the type of guys who picked up on high school girls. Spanish was being spoken more than English and the music of Los Lobos was playing on the speaker system. Bill and Beatrix received a few strange looks. The Hispanic males, who obviously ran the place, quickly decided they either didn't want to mess with Bill or thought he was cool....for an old guy and left them alone. Although, there were definite gawks in Beatrix's direction. At the counter, Bill proved he could speak "street" Spanish just as good as the kid next to him wearing his jeans belted below his ass...after that, them being left alone was a sure bet.

Armed with a bag full of nickels. Bill gloated Beatrix on. "Alright....I bet I can kick your ass at both ski ball and air hockey." he gave her a mischievous grin.

Beatrix put on a tight smirk and raised knowing eye brows at the change bag. She interoperated the challenge, weighed the ups and downs, and made a decision. "You're on."

The two killers, acting normal couple, decided on playing air hockey first since all the ski ball machines were taken. This was so stupid, so silly, but Beatrix was loving every minute of it. She'd more than happily add this night to her 'Pandora's Box' of fonder memories.

Within ten minutes the game was tied 2 to 3. Both proved to be worthy at such a children's game. Beatrix recalled playing a few times in her younger years and Bill obviously the same. The tall blonde on the far right side of the rectangular arena, was guarding her goal with an evident amount of hostility. Even during a children's game that involved competition it was hard to loose that killer instinct. She was leaned over, one hand clenched to the edge of the arena wall, and the other gripped tight to her 'weapon'. She had taken off her leather jacket as it had grown chilly out with the cooler fall breeze and it was hot inside with all the congregated bodies. Lips were pursed in concentration and blue eyes darted around as the air puck flew in every which direction. Beatrix was determined to break this tie. Bill had been continually mocking her throughout, in friendly competition of course. She thrust her hand forward, hand disk connecting with the puck, not realizing how hard she hit it, the puck bounced against the wall, and in almost a cartoon fashion the puck bounced off the arena wall, whizzed past Bill's head and hit the back of someone else's head from across the way.

The tall blonde blinked hard as the 'target' hotly turned around and sneered in her direction, clutching tight to the puck that had struck him. Beatrix flashed an apologetic smile. All she received was the finger and he walked away. She furrowed her slender brows. "I don't think we're going to get the puck back."

Bill hadn't played air hockey since he was a teenager. There had been a really shitty one at the bar that he and his friends used to get into all the time. He'd been pretty good way back then......now...apparently his skills weren't quite up to snuff. Like Beatrix, all it took was a silly game, and he was all intense and competitive....killer instincts kicking in. Mocking Beatrix was the best part really, but she was hard to distract. He'd already jammed his fingers a few times and in-between being totally serious, he started chuckling...finding this all very amusing. But when Beatrix had gotten a little too intense and hit some guy in the back of the head with the puck, Bill couldn't help but start really laughing. After all, it had been pretty damn funny.

"Oh shit...." Bill leaned over the table, laughing. "Yeah....something tells me that's a permanent loss.....I was going to beat you anyways, and you simply couldn't handle the shame." he smirked at her, picking up his jacket, which he had removed sometime ago. "Come on...I see a open ski ball lane."

Bill was awful at ski ball, of course...he'd talked himself up at being great at it the whole twenty seconds it took for them to get over there. For a game that really was dependent on control, he really sucked at it. "FUCK!" He threw another ball, a tad too violently up the alley....the ball smacking loudly into the plastic covering. Laughing, he waved it way, "Ok...your turn Kiddo...."

This time around, Bill had more fun pestering Beatrix as she tried to genuinely concentrate. Standing behind her, and speaking in his "narrator" voice, he made a move by move commentary, "......here she Kiddo...in her biggest throw to date....oh, what a shame...just missed it......ok...here she goes again....Just look at that expression of stern concentration her face. Ohh! So close! But, alas she is undaunted as she tries for yet another roll.....oh my....what a tense moment this is...."

Beatrix didn't seem to find this quite as amusing as Bill did.

Still holding the hard ball in one hand she turned from the ski ball lane and sauntered over to Bill. Her expression was firm and serious but her blue hues hinted mild amusement. She extended a long white finger and jabbed him in the chest. "Shut. Up."

She turned on her heels in an all out haughty demeanor and returned to her last shot in the game. The ball slid down the row and missed by a few inches. She cursed loudly and came back to him. "Fuck, we should play something else," she sneered lightly and picked up the bottle of water they had grabbed from the vending machine. She wasn't giving up, she was just aggravated. She took a few swallows and capped it. "A game like.." Blue eyes skimmed. "Like that one." She grabbed his hand and led him without waiting for an answer.

It was a very old version of "Street Fighter" or a cheap imitation. She grinned slyly. "I'm sure I can kick you ass virtually just as well as I can in reality."

Once Bill realized this was a "fighting" game, he grinned evilly. "Oh...hell no...." Bill pumped about ten nickels into the game consul, "Your going down Kiddo......big time...." Actually, Bill had never played the game in his entire life; he'd watched some Japanese kids play it once though. His days consisted more of Pong and Asteroids...and even then, he hadn't been all that young.

Picking the most badass looking dude Bill could find on the roster of fighters, he attempted to figure out the controls. "Oh...of course, you pick a giiiirrrrl....." he teased the tall blonde at his side, and bumped her with his shoulders. "I'm.....so going to kick your ass...." he sneered in a quiet sadistic tone, attempting to sound more confident than he actually was. Within a few seconds of the "match", Bill was already irritated with the lack of "real" martial arts in the game. "What the hell is this?" He slammed on the buttons like a true amateur, "That's not a kick!! What the fuck.....?" He wretched the joystick, glaring at the screen, "You call that a hold?" He sneered in disbelief, "Looks like she's trying to fuck him, not kick his ass!" Needless to say, Beatrix was winning so far. "The controls are too slow...." Bill murmured the age old male video game excuse.

"Ha!" Beatrix cried as the screen flickered with a vibrant display of 'Player Two: Victor and then proceeded to round three. She grinned in a sadistic manner as she attempted to kick Bill's virtual ass again. She glanced over at his overly flustered and irritated expression. She pursed her lips to sway away a smirk. "This game is all about cheap assed, not real martial arts," she clarified as she pressed a button performing a smack down that was rather pathetic. This got Bill's energy bar down to half.

"Cheap assed martial arts?" Bill hissed, still trying desperately to cling onto his "virtual life" "Where's the honor in that?" Obviously, Bill simply couldn't grasp the finer points of "Street Fighter" tactics.

"Baby, you suck," she stated-matter-of-factly. "I'll finish you off nice and clean and I promise I won't tell a soul."

Her matter of factly stated "Baby, you suck," made him both furious and yet at the same time start to laugh with amusement. He lost a good amount of concentration with this, and his quickly shrinking life bar signified that. "Nice and clean?" He yelled in an exasperated tone, "Your trapping me in the corner and repeatedly kicking my face in with that....that...." he searched for the right word for the move, ".....pathetic....quick.....kick...thing...." He leaned forward, in deep concentration attempting to find some way out of this dilemma, undaunted even in the final throngs of death. "Oh...no.....no way!" He threw his hands up, as his character died in dramatic slow motion. "Oh Jesus, and I even get a lame death." Frowning, Bill stepped back from the consul...glaring death into the cheesy anime graphics decorating the top of the consul. "Fighting game...my ass..." he grumbled to himself.

A young kid wearing baggy jeans and a backwards cap....probably about sixteen....who apparently had been watching them for sometime, spoke up from a few feet away, "Dude....you just gotta fess up....she kicked your ass." Bill turned and stared at the kid, who just shrugged and sauntered off down the aisle.

Turning back to Beatrix, Bill sneered with amusement, "Well, your character looked like a real slut."

"Yes," Beatrix canted her head at him. "But at least it was a slut who could kick your ass." Bill had on a very disgruntled face as he seemed to find the whole concept of loosing a virtual fight very unpleasant. She decided to stop rubbing it in and placed a quick kiss to his lips. Her hand lingered against his cheek and her lips formed an 'o' shape. "Why don't we head home. I don't think you could handle me beating you again."

Bill scowled, but it was softened a little by Beatrix's still somewhat gloating affection. "Very well....." he grumbled with the hint of smirk. She had a good point there. Bill didn't like losing all that much, even if it was on some stupid arcade game.

When they got outside, the two kids were still out there...hanging around the motorcycle; they were smoking this time, which was always a little shocking coming from young kids. Bill inspected the bike, mainly just for show. It didn't appear to have been moved an inch. Turning to the ruffians, he pulled out two hundred dollar bills, "Well....you two...it appears you will both live to love yourselves another day." They snatched the money greedily from his fingers, with wide smiles. He didn't even bother telling them to 'spend it wisely' he knew better....Bill knew what it was like. Most likely they'd go and spend it on crap...cigarettes...candy...whatever illegal things they could get their grubby little hands on. "Hey...thanks man!" They yelled and ran off to spend their newly earned fortunes.

Restarting the motorcycle, they both donned their helmets and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive back actually took a little less time, due to the fact there were basically no cars out on the highway. In fact, it was quite breathtaking, at least Bill thought so and he had a hard time concentrating on the road. It was pure desert the entire way back and above this flat plane, a clear dark blue sky was blanketed with a countless number of stars. Away from the city lights, it was so much easier to see all of them clearly. The lone vehicle on the straight road, they flew across this expanse of nothingness. Bill came to realize that this was something of a "no man's land". Behind them was San Diego, the place that all of them went to be with "normal" people....to do what normal people did. Ahead of them was their reality.....an unreal underground world of violence. They could cross that desert and pretend to be normal people all they wanted, but the truth was....what lied ahead was their real world...there wasn't much escape from that. It was in that stretch of desert that lay between where the two worlds collided.

Well, again...Bill was philosophizing as he was apt to do now and then. He was very aware of the dichotomy of these two worlds and was aware of the difficulties to keep them separate and to deal with that harsh reality. He, himself was perfectly comfortable in his own world...in fact, he preferred it. In that underground world of violence, he was on top and he knew every dark corner of it. Back in the "normal" world.....he admitted to himself that he often felt a little lost now and then. But he knew that some of the others that worked for him had had difficulties in the past....dealing with crossing the desert...so to speak.

Bill pulled the motorcycle around into the parking lot of Beatrix's apartment, and getting off the bike he removed his helmet watching Beatrix do the same. Running a hand through his hair, he gave her a sidelong glance, "I wasn't sure where you wanted to end up tonight....so I figured I should try here first."

Beatrix was shaking out her head in an attempt to get rid of her 'helmet' hair. She turned back to him with a sincere smile on her face. "I really enjoyed tonight," she breathed softly. It was obvious she was telling the truth. It'd be stupid to not tell the truth about something as 'special' as a 'date'. For the first time in a very long time, she had a normal night out. Even if it was a very not normal man she went out with, that didn't mean she couldn't pretend he was normal. As far fetched as it seemed, it worked and she was ecstatic. But, now it was back to reality. She was a hard assed bitch and he was a murdering bastard.

She leaned in and gave him a rather passionate and affectionate good-night kiss. She broke away and idly leaned her forehead against his. "Thank you." And then she solemnly stepped back, turned around, and went inside.


	8. Chapter 40

And so a few days passed days which for Bill, were rather dreamlike and filled with more contentment than he'd ever thought was possible for a murdering bastard like himself to feel. He was happy to know that Beatrix had enjoyed herself that night, and for him that was enough. But, reality as always, had to set back in. Yet, reality seemed a little less harsh now that Bill felt as if he was truly sharing it with somebody else.

Vernita had just returned from an assignment, and was at Bill's going over plans for yet another assignment. She wasn't very happy to be doing a "double shift" and was sitting at the bar with her arms crossed over her chest. Her taunt muscles in her arms stood out with unmistakable irritation. Bill was sitting across from her. There were a stack of papers between them, containing the details of her upcoming assignment. He was prattling on his usual soft voice as he sifted through the information. Vernita seemed a little distracted and kept glowering at Bill, her eyes darting to his ear, which for some fucking weird reason he was wearing an earring in. Bill seemed oblivious to her angry looks, that or he was ignoring it very well. "Bill," she spoke up finally, "Why in the hell are you wearing an earring?"

Bill looked up, somewhat startled by the sudden question, "Because I wanted to. I haven't worn anything in it for sometime...." his brow furrowed, "And this is an issue with you.......why?" It as a rather strange question, even for Vernita.

Vernita frowned, "Are you going through a mid-life......er...post mid-life crisis Bill?"

It was Bill's turn to frown; he sat back on his stool, "Cut the bullshit Vernita.....what are you getting at?" Like when did he ever care nor put up with this sort of shit to begin with? Nobody ever used to talk to him like this. Maybe he was getting too soft. Vernita opened her mouth to say something, but just then....a familiar tall blonde strode in.

"Bill...Vernita," the tall blonde greeted with a moderately warm smile that thinned across her face. Beatrix had been in a relatively good mood for the past few days. Ever since her date with Bill she had that unfamiliar feeling of floating on a cloud. A blissful feeling that wasn't drug induced. Upon first entering the room Beatrix was immediately hit with a mixture of warm and cold. The warmth was coming off of Bill, surprisingly and the cold from Vernita. The blonde was balancing on a thin line when it came to Vernita and for the past few months their spoken words to one another were few. No matter, she wasn't going to let that bring her down.

"So Vernita," she sauntered over and slid onto the stool beside her. This was close proximity and she knew she was taking a risk. "Looks like we're stuck on an assignment together."

Vernita was like a human freezer. She even moved a few noticeable inches away from Beatrix when the blonde seated herself next to her. Her gaze was averted to the countertop, where she was making a very bad attempt to look like she was going though the stack of papers there. "Yeah....I suppose we are Bea," she mumbled, long fingers thumbing through a stack of Xerox copies.

Bill on the other hand was giving off the complete opposite vibes. He was watching Beatrix with a pair of warm brown but still intense eyes as he leaned forward on the counter.

Vernita cleared her throat rather obnoxiously into the silence, as she continued to look through the assignment information. "So....Bill...." she seemed to be completely ignoring Beatrix now, "Three targets....two female...one male.....all of them proficient in bladed weapons...." she paused, glancing up at the man sitting across from her, "Bill?"

"Hrm?" Bill pulled his gaze away from Beatrix, "Yes...yes...it's all there....." he pushed a piece of paper towards her, "Brazilian...fighters all of them....grapplers....blade fighters....yes....it shouldn't be too tough....I want Beatrix along with you though for the added support."

Vernita looked annoyed, "I don't need the added support."

"You may not think so, but I think so.....and thus, you do." Bill's features hardened, looking and sounding much like his "old self" for the moment. Vernita looked like she was going to argue for a moment, and then with a violent huff, she began stuffing all of the information into the large envelope in a rather snitty manner. Bill watched her do this with a straight face.

Before Vernita could stuff everything into the folder Beatrix quickly snatched a few pieces of paper from her hand. The blonde's features that had seconds before been warm and inviting were hard and exasperated. Vernita was being a real bitch and Beatrix hadn't done anything. She entered the fucking room and said hello!

Blue eyes stared down at the papers, she realized she had snatched information that was just the legal crap that was always packed with the assignment information, and thus it had nothing to do with their assignment. "Seeing that Vernita put the assignment away so 'neatly'," her gaze rose steadily to Bill. Although her eyes were hard, behind was that softened affection she couldn't block off. "Would you fill me in?"

Bill was glaring at Vernita with arched eyebrows and a harsh frown. He turned to look at Beatrix, like her own look, he couldn't help but let some affection seep in despite how he was feeling towards Vernita at the moment. Vernita snatched the legal crap from Beatrix's hands and finished stuffing them into the folder with the rest. Her gaze seemed permanently turned down.

Bill pursed his lips, attempting to ignore Vernita for the moment, "Well....besides their fighting styles and such....this is a trio of former championship fighters. They're currently holed up in Sacramento...so this isn't a long distance assignment. But, I'm afraid the targets aren't going to be easy kills." He leaned back, crossing his arms, "I was not given a hell of a lot of information on why this particular client wants them dead," a sly smirk, "Then again, why is not what concerns me....it's how....and you two are perfectly suited for the part."

"I still don't see why I can't go alone," Vernita grumbled, still looking down, her muscular arms looking like two coiled snakes just ready to strike out.

"Stop questioning me Vernita, it's not your place and I'm fucking sick of it." Bill put a quick end to that in a soft but menacing tone of voice. Vernita was more than wise enough to know that was indeed the end of it. She pushed away from the counter, jumping off her stool, the envelope clutched in her hand, "Fine...." she said rather lamely, her eyes finally locking on Beatrix.

This time it was Beatrix who ignored Vernita's gaze. She stared at Bill as she reluctantly slipped from the stool. She deeply wanted to give him a kiss good-bye but she didn't. It wasn't because she was afraid of PDA, hell she'd have been more then happy to. She didn't because of Vernita and because she knew that if she did it would make the assignment become colder than it already was. Instead she gave him a weak smile and turned away to follow after her sullen partner.

Once outside Beatrix rushed up and beside her. The tall blonde was going to remain calm and rational; she refused to allow herself to sink down to Vernita's level of immaturity and unspoken hostility. "I'll meet you at the airport in an hour?" Vernita replied with an even lamer 'whatever' and made haste to her car. "Bitch," Beatrix muttered under her breath and returned to her own vehicle. Ever since their escapade at Vincent's she had been receiving the cold shoulder from Vernita. If that cold shoulder was going to continue throughout the assignment there were gonna be some major issues.

An hour later the two killers met up at the airport, and laden with their gear they silently boarded the plane and reluctantly sat next to one another on the plane. Thankfully it wasn't a long flight, less than two hours. Vernita spent the majority of the time with her nose buried in a book. She was always an avid reader, so at least this behavior wasn't out of the ordinary. But beyond that, she was somewhat of a changed person. Had this been just a few months ago, the two women would have been laughing and joking around with each other on the plane....just like they used to do. Instead, now they sat in utter silence. Vernita only spoke to Beatrix when it was completely necessary. Nobody liked tension filled silence, but Vernita was doing a damn good job of pretending that she did. Thankfully they landed and rented a car with no incident. There was no need for a hotel...this assignment was close enough to "home base" that it was not necessary.

Vernita sat in the driver's seat of the rental car as they remained parked in the covered lot. She was looking through the packet of papers, "It's across town........" she mumbled, "I fucking hate Sacramento....." She threw the packet of papers onto Beatrix's lap in a rather rude gesture and started up the car. Beatrix sent a short lived glare in Vernita's direction before directing her glare at the clutter of papers on her lap. She began to diligently ruffle them back together. Vernita was really starting to push Bea's buttons. There was only so much time and self control that the tall blonde would be able to keep before she lost her cool. It wasn't just Vernita's bitchy attitude that was irking Beatrix but how quickly she turned. A good year or more passed before Elle completely and utterly despised Beatrix and it was only till recently that that hate was crystal clear. It was almost disturbing and the tall blonde didn't like it at all.

Silence followed the duration of the ride across town and into the target's area. On the corner of a long road was a red brick house and to the left was a large shack. The shack was old, metal rusting, fungus growing in vacant areas, and numerous weed growth on the dying lawn. This was supposedly where their targets were hanging out. Beatrix turned her eyes from the window and to Vernita. "Where should we begin?" She asked placidly.

Vernita had pulled around the side of the block, "We begin..." she turned off the car and wrenched the emergency break up with just a tad more force than was necessary, ".....around the back. I say we sneak in that way...." she pointed at the back of the shack, "....split up once we get inside. I want to get this shit over and done with." She opened her door with a kick. "Ya know..." she turned back to Beatrix with a grumpy look, "I just got back from a fucking assignment....just this morning...and I'm already out again. While, I'm sure all you've been doing the last few days is fucking around with Bill," she snorted, getting out of the car, "And I highly doubt that takes too much energy." She slammed her door and rounded the back of the vehicle. She popped open the trunk and began to remove her gear. She quickly began concealing her weapons after a brief glance around the street. It was a sleepy overcast day in a fairly low class neighborhood...nobody appeared to be in the near vicinity. Vernita hadn't waited in the car to see Beatrix's reaction to her last comments....but no doubt the blonde would make her opinion known. Bea had always been something of a fucking loud mouthed bitch anyways.

Vernita holstered her knife with a vicious movement.

Beatrix was sitting in the passenger's seat of the car with mouth agog. Her expression read something similar to, 'oh that wasn't nice' and 'you fucking bitch'. She blinked hard and came out of the car. She rounded the side and came over to Vernita in a cold fury. She was going to try and remain cool even though she felt morally wounded and confused. She was going to settle this like an 'adult'. "Okay Vernita," she began in an overly soft venomous tone. "You obviously have something on your mind. So, instead of throwing all of those fucking insults at me just tell me straight out." She hadn't bothered to stock up on weapons as they weren't going inside any time soon. It may have been the wiser to grab something but she had enough faith that as 'hot tempered' as Vernita was she wouldn't dare make a move against her.

Vernita didn't speak for a few moments, instead, she seemed more content to adjust her knife holster. "Yeah...Bea...I've got something on my mind," she hissed, finally looking up at her blonde counterpart, "....so...sure I'll tell ya straight." She put her hands on her hips, taking a moment to gather in her thoughts, "Your a power hungry bitch...you've always been...and now you've found a way to really get what you want. You don't think the rest of us haven't worked our asses off for this organization? We've bled and suffered through just as much shit as you. And here....you come along.....and instead of keeping up with us, you decide to really get ahead....by fucking our boss." She sneered, "Pretty damn childish if ya ask me. That's the sorta shit we used to pull in high school." She raised a finger in Beatrix's direction, "And don't even tell me your not fucking Bill...because I can tell, so just save your breath on that lie. And I'm not Elle, so don't even call me jealous....Bill's just about the last man I think I'd want to sleep with. Personally, I don't know how you do it. But...what I do have a problem with, is you...stooping so fucking low....so you can feel better than the rest of us." Her expression turned a little more emotional, "We were bud's Bea.......and then you had to go and stab me in the back...so you could feel better about yourself." She shook her head, "On top of all of that....I thought you were smarter than that....on Bill's behalf....he's a dangerous man to be with Bea....and if you ever fuck him over, I think even you will be surprised at just how different he is than any other man that I'm sure you've already fucked over. So, ya know what....fuck you...."

That monologue being said, she gave Beatrix a sidelong glare and picked up her small equipment bag.

Beatrix stared. She had been hurt by numerous things numerous times for countless reasons but this time would out weigh a lot. She pursed her lips together and her features tightened noticeably to hold back her emotions. They were buds, they had been, and Beatrix always held that fact to heart. It was hard to keep a 'friend' in the field they worked in and to have one was important. But, she had lost it and what bothered her more was the reasons were so fucking stupid. How the fuck could Vernita think those things? Yes, Beatrix could be a selfish bitch but this time her actions were completely pure.

She shook her head solemnly back and forth in resentment. "Right, Vernita, fuck me and fuck you." She took a step away from the trunk. Her face was emotionless, void, and eerily calm. "Like you said before, you don't need the added support. Have fun." She turned away from her and began a slow walk back to the front of the car. "If you manage to get yourself in a knot, feel free to scream for me." She glanced over her shoulder. "I may come." The tall blonde opened the door, slid inside, and slammed it shut. For once she wasn't going to contradict or disagree with what Vernita said. Not yet, but in time they'd sort things out with deadly consequences.

Vernita stared at the parked car, the one that Beatrix had just gotten into, for a few moments. Her face was frozen in shock and anger. She was furious. How dare Beatrix do that! That took some fucking nerve and she didn't care what she had said to the blonde, she had no right to ditch her. She clenched her teeth together...her fiery hot temper rising to a dangerous level. A hand tightened around the hilt of her knife as Vernita took a few long strides back towards the car. She glared death at Beatrix, who was now back in the passenger seat, "Bill is going to hear about this!" She yelled through the glass, "And no matter what your doing to him, he's still going to be fucking pissed at you!" Of course, Beatrix already knew all of this, but Vernita felt the need to reiterate. She took a step away and then came back, "You have some nerve Bea! That's a shitty thing to do....bitch!" Turning on her heel, Vernita strode towards the shack with a murderous slant in her stride. Somebody was going to pay for what Beatrix had done...and unfortunately it wasn't Beatrix....and even more unfortunately for them, it was going to be those three targets inside. With a vicious glare, Vernita slipped her knife out of it's holster as she kicked open the rusty back door. This was going to feel damn good.

This was the real beginning of the end for Beatrix and Vernita.

The tall blonde was waiting quietly in the living room as Vernita 'tattle-tailed' on Beatrix, outside on the porch with Bill. She didn't give a fuck what Bill would have to say about going against a DiVA rule. It may have been rule number twenty two that stated under no circumstances is it acceptable to put a partner in danger during a partnered assignment. Yes, Beatrix wanted to remain on good terms with Bill. They were 'lovers' now and it wasn't smart to do something that could jeopardize that but she didn't care. Not really because if she had she wouldn't have broken that rule. Her actions could have been in place to the fact that no matter how pissed off Bill would be with her he'd never do anything too rash, not now. This was a very, very stupid thought but it's what she thought and believed to be true and it wasn't going to change. Her major thoughts were on Vernita, what she said, and how to analyze it. That was more important right now.

She was lying horizontal on the couch, her feet hanging a few inches off the end, and her head propped up on the arm of the couch. She had recently grabbed a pillow and stuck it over her face. For some reason this gave her a sense of security and an easier thought process. When she heard the sliding of the patio door she made no motion to rise.

Even without sight, it was usually fairly easy to tell who was in the room with you....even more so when you were a trained killer. At first, it was distinctly Vernita who was in the room with Beatrix. Every person had a distinct sound to their breathing, pace to their footsteps even a certain scent. Vernita had walked in, and had seemingly stopped to look at Beatrix in silence for a few seconds. It seemed like she was going to say something, but then she turned away and walked out of the on, she walked out of the house entirely, slamming the door behind her.

A few seconds later, it was Bill who entered the room. His cowboy boots clomped on the wood floor as he went over to the bar. He was there for a good minute, moving something around and then he approached the couch. He stood over Beatrix for a few seconds and then sat down next to her on the edge. With one quick motion he plucked the pillow off of Beatrix's face and threw it aside.

Bill's expression was more than familiar to Beatrix at this point. He looked disappointed, somewhat angry and underneath it all a very slight undercurrent of affectionate amusement this was signified by just the faintest twist of his lip. "Goddamnit Kiddo......." he said softly, "You never could quite behave........even when it came to the most important of rules." This was and would always be true about Beatrix. Bill raised an eyebrow, "I'm really fucking pissed at you right now." When he was honest, he was very honest. For being "fucking pissed" which Bill was often apt to describe himself, he seemed to be taking it reasonably well. But, he also was one to hear both sides of a situation. "I heard what Vernita had to say, but I must say....I am quite looking forward to your explanation." He watched her with halfway closed eyelids.

Beatrix stared up at him from her position on the couch. Her hands were clasped over her stomach, her head was tilted in his direction, and her expression was mixed but the prominent emotion out of the mixture was distress. She began her makings of an explanation in an equally soft tone but her jaw was firm set, "Vernita shot me down real good. According to her I'm a power hungry bitch and hell, I'm not gonna argue too much with that because in some respects I most likely am. But, where she referenced it, that's where it hit." She pursed her lips into a thin line and let her eyes close to subdue her anger. "I don't understand what her fucking problem is. I sat in the car trying to figure it out, I sat here and tried real damn hard but I've come up with nothing." Her hands noticeably began to tighten where they lay. Her eye lids slowly opened and she settled her gaze back on him. Her lips parted as if to form a word but she twisted it back and went with something else, "She had it comin' Bill. I couldn't walk into that assignment after hearing what she just said and have been able to back her up if something went wrong. That......that would have been more selfish than what I already did."

Bill listened to her explanation with an unchanged expression from before. He had already heard what Vernita had said and now hearing Beatrix's side of things...he began to put the whole picture together. Vernita had been very explicit in what she had said to Beatrix, and Bill had to admit her words had upset him more than just a little bit. And nor could he blame Beatrix for being equally or more upset. Again, he was put into a difficult situation. He didn't agree with what Beatrix had done, it went against one of the most sacred of their organization's rules. On the other hand, he could certainly understand why she had done what she had done. On top of everything else, he didn't want to be angry with Beatrix....not now, not after all the anger they had dispelled on one another just to get to this point. And ultimately, he hated playing negotiator between two bickering women.

Bill looked up at the ceiling, mainly just for a way to organize his thoughts without having to look at her....which recently had become a very potent way to muddle his clear thinking. "What am I supposed to do now Kiddo? Not send you out with anybody?" He knew that this, in some part, was his own doing. By choosing to be with him, Beatrix had alienated herself from her compatriots. That wasn't fair to her. In many ways, he was the only person on her side. She had sacrificed her other friendships for his. Why the fuck did it have to be that way?

He frowned and looked back down at her. Who knew why it had to be that way, but it apparently did...and there was no getting around it. If she had sacrificed so much for him, then it would be cruel to punish her for that. Granted, Bill was a cruel person...but right now that cruelty stopped when it came to Beatrix. He laid a hand on top of her arm, "Vernita might of had it coming but you never should have left her," easier said than done and he knew that, "That said...I think you handled the rest very well. What she said to you was fucking inexcusable and I told her just as much. Your penchant for irrational fits of anger is getting much better....." he trailed off and let out a long breath, looking a little tired, "And that's that....."

That was that and Beatrix knew she had to stop thinking about that at least for a few minutes. She desperately wanted to scream or cry but she held too much self control. It hurt a lot to know that the consequences for being with Bill involved losing what she had with her coworkers. Which then bought up the topic of it being worth it and to Beatrix it was. She never had much with her coworkers to being with. Yes, they got along but there was nothing worthwhile. Vernita may have been an exception but that wasn't going to last any longer. In the end she would always have Bill no matter what anyone else thought or what happened. He'd be on her side and even so she still felt a tinge of loneliness. She slowly sat up and bent her legs up to her chest and her arms locked around them. "I think I'm gonna head home," she stated softly and nestled her chin against her knees.

Bill watched her with a furrowed brow. He was far from oblivious to the relationships between those who worked for him. He'd watched as Beatrix's fellow coworkers slowly turned their backs on her. And he knew that Vernita was probably the worst blow to Beatrix thus far. He scrutinized Beatrix with that intense knowing look. She wanted to break down, he could tell....but he also knew she wouldn't...not yet, not in front of him. He wanted to be comforting, but he was also still rather pissed off at her. Once again he was faced with what he would have done before and what he should do now.

Pushing back those very strong emotions of anger and disappointment, he wrapped an arm around her bunched up shoulders. "Alright Kiddo," he sad softly in response to her last spoken words. Bill felt as he would always feel....even if he didn't agree with what Beatrix had done, he would still be rooting for her.

* * *

"Remind me again why we're here?" Budd asked Beatrix in a hushed whisper. The two were planted up against the far wall of an abandoned office complex in the middle of the ghettos of Illinois. There was rusted metal, fungus, cobwebs, and gaps in the floor boards. All in all it wasn't a pretty building. "We are here because your shit-ass brother needed all of us to take out these targets."

"Ah, yes. There are too many for just one of us to take down," Budd scoffed, obviously annoyed by this. It had been months since Bill had ever put all the Vipers together for an assignment. Budd knew that Bill tried overly hard to prevent this from happening, considering the tension between them all but there was unfortunately no way around it.

"Okay," the tall blonde took a step away from the wall into the open hallway. She turned her head to Budd. "You take the south and I'll take the north." He nodded and went off the directed direction, a multi-Caliber in hand.

Elle Driver aka California Mountain Snake was currently crouched under a cheap metal office desk. She had been in this same position for over five minutes and her thighs were starting to ache....not to mention she couldn't feel her ass. She re-holstered the AK-47 she had strapped over her right shoulder. It was one hell of an automatic given the chance she could turn this office into a fucking dead zone. But, she was waiting....waiting on the signal. So far, there had been no movement...nor hardly any sounds. The multiple targets were nearby....all of the DiVA's knew that, but so far Bill had yet to give the signal...and thus...they were all waiting in their designated stations.

Vernita was situated in a crevice further down the hallway. She was wedged between a Pepsi machine and the plaster wall. It was dirty, cramped and loud due to the hum of the vending machine. She was also thirsty as hell and kept surpassing the urge to blow the front off the machine and drink to her hearts delight. So far she'd counted five spider webs, and twelve empty candy wrappers. "Jesus Bill....." she muttered to herself. He sure as hell was taking his damn time in giving the signal.

Bill was roughly in the center of the building...right were he wanted to be. He was completely in his element. He was strolling down the ill lit hallway, his black Asics sneakers softly padding against the flooring. He was softly humming Queen's "Hammer to Fall" to himself as he swaggered along. In his left hand was a semi-automatic Derringer pistol, in the other was that massive chrome 45 Magnum that Jeff had become so familiar with at the end of his life. For all appearances, minus the guns, Bill looked like he was meandering down the hallway to check his mailbox. A few quick casual glances through the glass doors along the way and he continued on, still humming to himself. He seemed to have a general idea of where he wanted to go. Finally, rounding the corner...he caught a glimpse of two men leaning up against the opposite wall. They were both dressed in jeans and ski vests. Without any hesitation, Bill walked right up to them. They were both armed with automatic rifles.

"Gentlemen," he spoke softly. Both men spun around; obviously they had been expecting somebody from the opposite direction. They brought their large rifles around, but they were simply too slow. Bill swiftly shot one through the head with the Derringer and seamlessly made the change of weapons and shot the other man through the leg with the Magnum. No change in expression from Bill. The man who was still living began screaming, rolling on the ground clasping onto his blood spurting thigh. "Oh god....." he moaned, eyes clasped shut. Bill stood over him, "Not loud enough I'm afraid..." he murmured and stomped viciously on the man's wounded leg. The man let out a amazingly loud blood curdling, ear piercing scream before passing out.

Bill raised an eyebrow, "Much better."

From their positions, Elle and Vernita leapt into action. The signal had been given, it was time to clear this building.

Beatrix, Budd, as well as O-Ren heard the creative signal and headed out into action. Many of the targets were ill prepared and didn't expect to be shot down with an onslaught of bullets. The Chinese-half-breed was on the second level sending bullets whizzing through the air and hitting two men in the chest. She swiftly did a one-eighty and shot three more men that were approaching in a similar fashion.

As she inched down the hall way and made a right turn she spotted Beatrix handling her own set of targets with a simple 9 mm and the skillful use of a dagger. The final target in the room dropped down dead after taking a bullet to the head. Blood decorated the walls and the wooden flooring was slippery. Beatrix slowly turned to face O-Ren. Both appeared sweaty and worn. The tall blonde offered her counter part a generous smile but it wasn't returned.

Once that blood curdling "signal" had been set off, the building turned into a war zone. Apparently the large number of members of this "drug house" had been hiding out just as well....as soon they heard the sound of bullet fire, they began spilling out of everywhere. Bill hadn't been lying....the DiVA's were easily outnumbered 10 to 1. Of course, all these assholes really knew how to do well was make crack, and when it came down to fighting the DiVA's had a much larger advantage. It was just a matter of dealing with the sheer numbers.

Elle had begun mowing down people with her AK. She knew she looked totally badass with the weapon, not to mention wearing the black skintight cat suit she was currently in and she played up the dramatics as much as possible. With her trademark sneer, she strode down the hallway, holding the gun in true Rambo style and picked off anything that moved. Her black knee-high boots were gleaming off the harsh florescent lighting. She made her way along the entire building this way, and reaching a fire exit she slammed the door open with her shoulder and bounded up the concrete stairs to the second floor. It didn't take long for her to pick up on nearby gun fire and working up into a sprint she bounded her way through a few offices and emerged into a large conference room where both Beatrix and O-Ren were taking on a large number of targets.

"Duck ladies," Elle smirked, loading another clip into her gun, "These motherfuckers are mine!"

Bill looked up as he heard the distinctive sound of AK ammunition fire up on the second floor. He'd chased a few guys into a women's restroom, shot one in there and had ended up chasing the other two down fifty feet of hallway into an executive office where he finally put away the other two. Standing above the two bodies, he'd made an interesting discovery. Sitting on the sleek office table was an open suitcase full of enough crack cocaine to supply the whole east side of Detroit, for a day at least. Sifting through the suitcase Bill had a momentary thought, and then deciding against it, he opened the large window and dumped the entire suitcase onto the street. He watched with a smirk as about two million dollars of methamphetamines were snatched up by the neighborhood's residents.

Meanwhile, Vernita knife in hand, was bounding down one of the many long hallways. The blade of her knife was covered in a fresh coat of blood. Some of these jackoff's had thought they could take her blade to blade....too bad for them...they found it was far easier to get their throats slit. She flew by an elevator door, and skidding to a halt, she decided to check the upstairs. Pressing the button, the elevator doors immediately opened. Once on the second floor, she heard automatic gunfire and headed right for that direction. She kicked open a set of large double doors and instantly hit the floor. She'd seen a brief flash of Elle standing right across from her on the other side of the room, firing a spray of machine gun bullets. "Shit! Elle!! Stop shooting!!" She screamed from her position on the ground, hands covering her head.

Elle ceased her ammunition firing. The conference room was full of smoke and was slowly beginning to clear up. O-Ren and Beatrix were on the far side of the room having avoided Elle's heinous, unforgiving man slaughtering.

O-Ren coughed as she waved a hand to clear away the smoke that was stinging her eyes. "Fuck Elle! Next time don't start that shit up in such a tight room," she said in an aggravated tone. Beatrix who wasn't any more thrilled then O-Ren was, was about to make a comment, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a glint.

The tall blonde whipped around and took a quick side step to avoid an elongated blade from slicing her in half. O-Ren hadn't seen Beatrix's attacker coming as she was busy with her own surprise attacker. O-Ren and her target, male in a business suit, not entirely sure what he was doing, were in a hand to hand combat, which brought O-Ren across to the far side of the room away from the other woman.

Unfortunately Beatrix's attacker wasn't unskilled. He was dressed in similar fashion to O-Ren's but he was wielding a deadly katana. The tall blonde warrior, unarmed against a sword, began taking swift dodges to avoid contact with the steel. Another disadvantage was the smoke. She could see but the haze was obscuring some of her perception. As another swift strike was taken at her she performed a back flip to evade but she landed wrong and hit the wall with a fierce impact leaving Beatrix at a dangerous disadvantage.

Bill had found three more suitcases of coke and had subsequently thrown the contents of all three out of the office window. This appealed to his somewhat strange sense of humor and he chuckled as the residents of the ghetto came to collect every ounce they could off of the parking lot concrete. After awhile he decided he was through playing Robin Hood and headed back down the hallway. The AK fire had stopped for the moment and he could only hope things were going decently enough on the upper floor. For now, he had more then enough business to take care of on this floor.

"Fuck!" Elle hissed, as her trusty AK was knocked from her hands by a new attacker. It seemed this new wave of attackers were slightly more skilled than the morons who had come before. She had noticed Beatrix was being attacked by a guy with a katana. She'd thought about coming to help, but fuck the bitch. Elle turned her back on the other blonde, her own attacker first and foremost in her mind. At least this guy didn't have a katana.....he was easy game....

Vernita had once again unholstered her knife and was slashing away madly at a tall suited man, who was armed with a knife of his own. Where this drug ring had come up with people who could actually use weapons was beyond her, but for the moment she was somewhat glad for the challenge. Like Elle, Vernita had seen Beatrix's new attacker and seen that he not only had a katana but probably was the most skilled of all their attackers thus far. She'd thought about coming to help, but fuck the bitch. Vernita turned her back on the tall blonde, her own attacker more important than helping her fellow DiVA member.

The man now facing Beatrix, held his katana with two self assured hands. He was calm and completely silent....a sign of a warrior. It didn't take long to realize that he knew how to use his weapon. He slashed at Beatrix with solid and deadly accurate strikes. He seemed undaunted by her ability to evade his attacks thus far. He just kept coming at her, his footwork equally as impressive as his sword work. When she made a move, he would simply mirror her and block her way. When she retreated, he advanced...when she advanced he didn't budge. In short, he was a worthy and dangerous opponent and his deadly slashes were getting closer and closer to hitting their mark.

O-Ren was farther back in the room where she was away from more of the intense action. If she had so desired to help Beatrix it would be easier said then done. But she could pull it off; this was O-Ren Ishii, but catching signals from Vernita and Elle, she withdrew any so called desire to help. She unholstered her gun and took a clean shot at her attacker who soon enough fell down dead.

This would have been a hell of a lot easier if Beatrix had a sword her own. Bill didn't say any thing about these assholes being able to wield such a weapon. Thus being her reason for only stocking up on ammo. The blonde warrior evaded another oncoming attack but this time the gun she was holding was knocked from her hands. Muttering a curse she glanced over to her fellow Vipers. Another curse passed her lips and she stared daggers into the backs of the three women. How dare they. But, this stare didn't last long as she whipped out her SOG from beneath her pants leg to face her katana wielding attacker.

A SOG wasn't much against a full edged blade but at least Beatrix could put more faith in it then her fellow team members.

Both Elle and Vernita continued to completely ignore Beatrix's plight against the sword wielding attacker. Sure, the room was still a little smoky, but they could see her more than well enough to know she was not having the best time in the world. Without a sword of her own it was very hard to defend herself properly. But, neither of the other two women made one move to help. And like O-Ren, they could both could have easily done so....they just simply chose not to.

Beatrix's sword wielding attacker didn't seem very phased by her unholstering of her SOG. It was a good bladed weapon, but against an expertly swung katana it fell a little short. He didn't seem the gloating type though, and just continued coming at her with an expression of extremely serious ferociousness. Beatrix was doing her best to block and evade his sword strikes, but her attacker was continually advancing at a dangerous rate.

Beatrix had been pushed back near the corner of the room. Her attacker didn't seem to be slowing down at all, and it was then he threw in a surprise front kick right to her throat. No matter how big or strong you were, getting kicked in the throat could stop anybody in their tracks. There was that brief moment of frozen pain, where you thought for sure your windpipe had been crushed and you choked for any small bit of air that you possibly could. So, it was no surprise when Beatrix had a similar reaction. Her attacker took full advantage of her momentarily loss of concentration and swung his blade horizontally across her chest for a long strike. He had the full intention of literally cutting her in half, but luckily for Beatrix she had taken a reflexive step back. Thus, instead of the middle of the blade, her skin received the top inch or two.

All of the other DiVA members in the room had heard her yell but none of them moved to help their fellow fallen warrior.

Beatrix hit back against the wall with blood steadily running down the front of her black blouse and onto the floor. It was a deep gash and no matter the care she gave it there would still remain an etching reminder of this 'betrayal'. She was slouched against the wall, her chest heaving up and down from exertion which only made the blood flow faster. Those intense blue eyes watched as her attacker rose up the crimson stained katana to bring it down for a final blow.

Lids closed over blue hues to take the blow and she noticeably winced when she heard a loud 'bang' echo across the room followed by, "What the fuck?!" It was clearly Budd. Beatrix whipped her eyes open to see her attacker fallen to the floor with multiple bullets in his back and across the way was Budd with a raised revolver.

The smoke from earlier gun shots had cleared and the room was now a bloody mess of dead bodies and bullet rounds. Budd took a step into the room with a baffled expression and he glanced to Beatrix. She was still stuck against the wall covered in blood and raging with hot fury. Yes, her wound hurt like a bitch but it didn't compare to the bitches in front of her. Anger could mask a lot of emotions as well as physical pain.

Her lips tightened into a taut line and she shook her head from side to side in disgust. "I would 'never' let any of you come so close," she breathed through clenched teeth.

Both Elle and Vernita stood staring at Beatrix with rather snooty expressions. Neither of them moved to help or comfort their bleeding comrade. In fact, they both looked cold and unmoved by the sight in front of them.

"We were busy.....tough break Bea," Vernita finally replied into the awkward silence. Her voice was wooden. Elle gave a stiff nod of agreement and turned away to reload her gun. Vernita's dark eyes stayed on Beatrix for a few more seconds and then she likewise turned away, seemingly more interested in cleaning off her knife.

Elle muttered something about "that will leave a scar" under her breath and she began walking around and kicking at the numerous bodies to make sure they were all well and dead. Neither of them seemed the slightest bit concerned that Beatrix was still sitting there....and still bleeding. They began meandering around the room avoiding her glare.

O-Ren stared at Beatrix, apparently not as bitter hearted as the other two but that didn't mean she wasn't still cold. She gracefully stuck her weapon back in the holster and gave the bleeding blonde warrior a serious look. "You deserved it," she muttered just above a whisper.

Beatrix felt her jaw unhinge. "Woah now, that's a tad harsh O-Ren," Budd said as he was busy tarring off some clothing material to stop the blood that continually oozed from Beatrix's gash.

Beatrix on the other hand had her own response. Her SOG was still in her hand and when O-Ren turned to walk away she could feel the 'swish' of metal flying just past her ear and snagging into the wall in front of her. O-Ren whipped around and glared.

Both Elle and Vernita knew it was only a matter of time before Bill showed up, and then the real hell would go down. Elle slowly began making her way out of the back of the conference room.....like a sneaking rat. She made it look like she was going to check on the room across the hall. Vernita looked a tad uncomfortable, and her gaze kept flicking over to the glaring and bleeding Beatrix. Budd was the only one helping her at the moment. It was obvious there was still something of an internal struggle going on in her mind, but she was not moving to help.

Then, the hell went down.

"What the fuck happened in here, I-" Bill stood in the front doorway to the room, guns holstered. He took in the entire picture with a sharp look around the room. He'd stopped speaking when his eyes settled on Beatrix. He made a few long strides across the room, and literally shoved his younger brother out of the way. "Get the fuck out of my way Budd! Now!!" Bill was completely oblivious to the fact that Budd had only been trying to help.

Bill knelt in front of Beatrix. It was different now. This wasn't just his employee sitting there bleeding profusely, this was his woman. After a brief second of looking her over, he turned and snatched the makeshift bandages from Budd's hands, "What happened Kiddo...." he spoke to her softly but with a good amount of concern and urgency. As he spoke he placed his hands, which were now wrapped in the torn clothing, over the gash and pressed down with a good amount of pressure. "Just hold still baby," he murmured. Beatrix was no stranger to this sort of injury and she could handle herself just fine, but Bill couldn't help but show a new amount of emotional concern.

Beatrix held back a wince but the pain was evident in her contorted features. She had settled herself on the floor finding it was too much effort to stand. Her legs were stretched out in front of her and her breathing continued to labor. She was ecstatic on the inside that Bill was there. Someone that actually gave a fuck what happened to her.

"O-Ren, Vernita, and Elle, they. . ." Budd began but he was cut short by the cold death glare Beatrix shot him.

She cleared her throat in a mixed effort to regain her composure. "They...weren't in the area when some katana wielding asshole took me by surprise. Unarmed with a blade of my own he gained the upper hand and I was cut..." Budd stared down at the blonde with a furrowed brow. He knew exactly what happened and he honestly thought it was disgraceful and the three deserved to be punished for it. But, knowing his brother, Budd could see why Beatrix held back from giving the 'true' story. It was a noble thing to do for those that were anything but noble.

Bill watched Beatrix closely as she retold the events that had led up to her injury. He took all of it in, including Budd's near confession. When she finished, Bill simply frowned and didn't say anything. This generally signified that he knew the truth behind the matter, but wasn't going to argue with it...for the moment. He respected Beatrix for her decision to either tell him the truth or choose to withhold information on her fellow DiVA members. Bill was still a man of honor...despite all of his less than desirable qualities...he remained true to that code of honor. He continued to apply pressure to the cut, pressing down hard on her collar bones. It was painful, but far better than bleeding to death and he needn't worry about Beatrix's threshold for pain. "Hrm...well....." he grumbled, brow furrowed, "Just keep holding still...." He placed a hand horizontally on her forehead, "Try to slow down your breathing.....deep breaths...." he spoke in that trademark calm tone of voice that almost sounded like it should be on a meditation tape.

Vernita stood a few feet away, her look slightly averted from Beatrix but it was obvious she was watching out of the corner of her eye. Her arms were folded across her chest. Elle returned a few moments later, she'd obviously declared the room safe from a "Bill episode" and was now slowly strolling around the room, examining bodies. Vernita had heard Beatrix's words, Elle had not. The darker skinned woman made no sign of caring one way or another that she had been saved from Bill's wrath.

"Budd," Bill turned to look at his brother, "Tear me off another strip," The material in Bill's hands was already nearly soaked through and while Beatrix was probably the only person he'd tear his clothing apart for at the moment, he figured since Budd had already started he might as well keep at it. Budd obliged without any hesitance. He tore off another long strip of his jacket and handed it over to Bill's waiting hand. He than began tearing off further strips for later use.

O-Ren came back into the room and stopped beside Vernita. They exchanged silent words through eye contact before the half breed began a slow saunter around the room.

The bleeding blonde found it easier to close her eyes in an effort to level her breathing apposed to staring at her fellow comrades. Beatrix could take pain as she had learned on numerous occasions how to block out pain from the mind. She was mastering the tactic. Physical pain was easy to block out, it was mind over matter, but mind over emotion was another story. Continued unanswered questions of why went through her head.

Budd cleared his throat, "Bill, there's that...guy...ya know, about twenty minutes north, could fix that up real tight."

Bill nodded silently at Budd's words. He knew exactly whom and where his brother was talking about. The three other women exchanged glances once again. They were a united strong force. "Come on Kiddo," Bill wrapped his hands under Beatrix's arms and helped her stand. She was quite woozy but she could walk with support. "Keep that on there." Bill instructed her to hold down the wad of bloody suit strips onto her chest as they made their way out of the room. The rest of the Vipers silently followed.

It took some time to get out of the building and around to the two waiting sedans in the back lot. Bill insisted the three other women go by themselves while Budd drove he and Beatrix. Since Budd knew where he was going, he led the way. Bill sat silently next to Beatrix, keeping a well educated and wary eye on the increasingly blood soaked material held to her cut. "I could drive faster than this in a coma Budd," Bill snapped, "Step it up..." The two cars roared down the interstate until they came upon a small complex of buildings that looked like a run down strip mall. One of these businesses had a sign out in front that read "Rub A Dub's Bath and Jacuzzi' Bill helped Beatrix out of the car and they entered the business, followed somewhat hesitantly by the rest.

Bill, with an arm around Beatrix, walked up to the counter where a young woman sat doing her nails. She glanced up at them. "I'd like to buy a Jacuzzi...." Bill said smoothly, "I'll only buy it from Brad." The woman nodded knowingly and didn't seem at all phased by the bloody blonde at Bill's side. "Just a moment sir...." she picked up her multi lined phone and dialed a few digits, "Brad.....a customer here to see you," she spoke into the receiver.

A minute later, a middle aged man, with a fringe of dark graying hair around a completely bald head came out front. His green eyes took in Beatrix's appearance, "Please..." he indicated the back of the store, "...this way please..." Brad, whom it was supposed, led the group through a door and into a back room that was far from a Jacuzzi showroom. It was a fully equipped hospital room. It was white clean and sported an array of instruments and professional looking equipment. Brad indicated the large bed in the middle of the room.

With Bill's aid Beatrix was situated on the hospital bed with the crinkly transparent paper rolled across the surface. She was still clutching to the clothing wraps on her chest that were now bloody rags as she lay down. Her head beginning to spin due to the blood loss but she was keeping it together. Blue hues glanced around to note the position of everyone. The three bitches were near the door, Bill was at her side, Budd was behind her, and the supposed Brad was next to Bill. She wanted to say something but when her lips parted all that came out was a splatter of blood.

Bill was watching Beatrix with an expression of utmost concern. His head was back on her forehead. "Don't try to talk Kiddo." He nearly smirked, despite the serious moment, getting to Beatrix to not open her mouth...even when she was coughing up blood, was not always an easy task.

Brad was busying himself with getting his instruments ready. He seemed quite professional and knowledgeable. He was a little cool on the bedside manner, but when you ran an underground ER...that wasn't exactly one of the qualifications. Bill continued to speak to Beatrix in a soothing tone...his words irrelevant really.....he just wanted to keep her calm as Brad was still getting prepared.

The room was virtually silent except for Beatrix's labored breathing and Bill's soft mumbled words. Then suddenly out of the middle of nowhere, Elle let out a loud snorting laugh. She slapped her thigh, continuing to laugh. Everybody in the room, save for Beatrix of course, had turned around to stare at her. Even Vernita, who had been standing solidly by her side, was staring at her in astonishment. Elle snorted again, "This is fucking hilarious really....I mean....how funny would it be if Bea kicked the bucket in a shit joint named Rub A Dub's Bath and Jacuzzi!" Another peal of laughter shook her frame, "I mean....fuck....the deadliest woman in the world...bleeding to death in the back of a Jacuzzi showroom....." Another wave of laughter took her and she gave in to it.

Everyone was still staring at her, now with disgust. Bill looked like he was going to literally shoot her right then and there. Vernita just looked all out shocked.

After an awkward few moments, Elle's laughter died down and an even more awkward silence followed, all eyes still locked on the willowy blonde.

Beatrix was in pain but she wasn't deaf. She jolted up like a patient springing from a coma, Bill's hand that was on her forehead was easily rid of, as she sat up. Her breathing was worse then before and her eyes spoke chilling volumes. Brad happened to have stopped his 'doctor' routine to stare at Elle's burst of laughter. He held numerous utensils on a tray in front of him, near the bed side. Beatrix snatched a scalpel from the tray and was about to hoist it at Elle when a firm handed grip went around her wrist. "Woah! Bea stop it. She's not worth it and you know it," Budd stated firmly next to her ear. She struggled against his grip but it was obvious she wasn't trying too hard or she'd have been able to get out of it. Her breathing became chocked and shallow. Long white fingers unraveled from the blade and it clattered to the floor. Her lips pursed. She began in a soft tone, "I want...all of you...out..." Her voice cracked but she put it back together to produce a rather fierce voice level. "Now!"

Elle had instantly stopped chuckling when Beatrix had suddenly sprung up, hell bent on throwing a scalpel at her. In fact, she sprang back a few steps, her eye wide and glaring at her arch nemesis. She mouthed something that looked like "holy shit."

Vernita was likewise now staring at Beatrix. Her expression was difficult to read, but there seemed to be just a tad of old respect for her former friend lingering there amongst the anger.

Bill had taken a reflexive step back as well, his expression still calm but a frown was now creasing his face. He glanced at his brother with a wisp of thankfulness....a rare thing. Bill once again stepped forward, hands pushing Beatrix's shoulders back down onto the bed. "That was stupid," he hissed. She looked awful, worse than before....and while her outburst was certainly understandable...it only proved to aggravate her further.

"You heard the woman," Bill growled, glancing at Brad before removing his hands from Beatrix, "All of you out....." he turned and with a quick look over his shoulder at her, he began shooing everybody out of the room. "Out! Come on! Elle! Get your ass over here...." his voice faded out as the door was shut behind the group.

Beatrix was left with Brad, who still looked a little frazzled over what had just happened. He came up next to her, a couple instruments in his hands. This included a large syringe. He leaned over her, and flicked the tip of the syringe "This might sting," he said in a firm but not unkind voice, "...but believe me....your not going to feel a thing....at least not for a few hours....." It was well known all the underground doctors had the best drugs.

The tall battle worn blonde awoke a good seven hours later. Her glossy glazed blue eyes registered her surroundings to find them comfortingly familiar. She was in Bill's bedroom. The pain she felt before was down to numbing pressure on her chest cavity and the dysfunctional continued effects of the drugs were causing her more annoyance. Thankfully her brain was too unfocused to focus on the events that transpired earlier. She shifted her head to the side on the fluffed pillow to see something she hadn't expected. Bill was lying next to her hiding behind a newspaper. She methodically cleared her throat to gain attention. When Bill quickly reacted by ruffling the paper down on his lap and turning to her she supplied a warm smile. "Unless this is hell and you're the devil then I think it's safe to say I'll live to kill another day," she said in a soft voice, her eyes sparked with a flicker of sarcasm behind her drug induced haze.

Bill chuckled, "Ya know what they say about sleeping with the devil." He gave her a wide devilish grin for added emphasis. But the wicked expression slowly melted away to one of relief, "Oh yes....you'll certainly live to kill another day Kiddo...." He set his paper aside, "Brad...the Jacuzzi man, gave you a good twenty stitches...not to mention a hardy dose of drugs. Then again, I'm sure you're already aware of that. That blade nearly split you open from shoulder to shoulder...." he gave her a dark look, "It was a very deep cut...your lucky there wasn't much muscle tissue damaged, " a raised eyebrow, "Your also lucky that asshole didn't slash you six inches lower..." He pushed himself down into a lying position and turned to face her, head propped up on his elbow. He was frowning, but it was an affectionate frown. Not very many people could pull that off as well as Bill could. He knew she'd held back information on her fellow Viper's not coming to her aid. He knew how close that cut had come to causing serious injury. He knew how near to bleeding to death she'd been. But, looking at her now he didn't want to tell her anymore of those things....at least, not for the moment. She was completely hazed out....and could react badly. Beatrix had had enough of a hard dose of reality for the day. Instead, he reached out and traced comforting fingertips along her soft jaw line, "You scared me back there," a slight smile, "Even the devil gets scared now and again...."

When his fingertips came close to her lips she made an effort to place a small kiss to him. Or at least she had hopes she kissed in the intended area as her eyes were just as distorted as her mind. She despised being drugged up but this time she was thankful for it. "It wasn't my intention to scare you," she admitted gently.

Honestly Beatrix hadn't realized how extensive her injury really was. At the point and time she received it she was too immersed in anger to concentrate on further emotions. This left her oblivious to everything else, especially pain. She closed her eyes in an effort to clear her head and slowly reopened them to gaze upon him fondly. She knew he was dying to discuss what happened with her but she also knew that he knew that she was too drugged to comprehend and have a well thought through conversation about it. This time she didn't want to linger in unsettled silence so she came up with an efficient question that would be an easy answer, "How long have I been out?"

Bill's hand was now resting behind her ear. "About seven hours," he replied to her question, "It didn't take Brad all that long to stitch you up....but he'd drugged you up so much, that it was impossible to wake you up....even if he wanted to." A slight frown, "I sent Elle and the other two off on other assignments....." he trailed off, not finishing the sentence. He paused, "You're too out of it right now to really discuss the whole story," he watched her closely, "Later...." Bill knew more than enough about drugs and mind control, to know that under the influence of strong pain killers a person was not in a safe state to receive, retain or expel emotionally strong information. She was liable to get agitated and/or confused if they talked about it now...and he didn't want that.

He laid his head down next to hers, his arm wrapped around her shoulder....careful to keep his arm away from her bandages. "At least you got some good drugs out of the whole thing," a weak smile, "Hrm...one time....when I was in Indonesia....I ended up at this doctor...turns out the guy was a veterinarian...shot me up with that shit they give horses....well....." he prattled on in that soft low tone of voice. A stupid story was always a good antidote for trauma and right now he just wanted Beatrix to forget. Later she would remember more then enough.

Beatrix listened intently to the bizarre although entertaining story. When he came around to telling his second story, which had something to do with a red convertible, a stripper, and a hot air balloon, the weary blonde started to fall back asleep. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy Bill's talking. She loved it when Bill talked. Even when she was irate with him she couldn't help but listen.

She slept for another solid three hours before waking up again. This time she woke up to a darker room setting. The only light source was a dim reflective light from the hall way and the dim Chinese paper lamp on the dresser. Blue eyes opened and adjusted quickly. It was a relief to know that if her eye sight was clearer than the rest would be.

Bill wasn't lying next to her anymore. A sad realization but she knew he couldn't have been lying there for the last ten hours. With some needed effort she pulled herself up to a sitting position and stopped there. The wound was mildly stinging through out her chest area and ranged between annoyance and actual pain. She sat in that position and let the pain subside for a good minute. She swallowed a wince of pain and brought her hands up to the collar of her shirt. She pulled down to reveal the heavy-duty gauze and tape over the wound. If it had been further down it could have been used for extra padding. A faint smirk to herself as she gingerly pressed at the dressing to make sure the area was still dry.

It didn't take Nikishi and her "spidey senses" long to realize that Beatrix had woken up. She shuffled into the darkly lit room with a tray full of goodies. Most of them of her picking....Japanese treats and coffee of course. She was getting to know the blonde's tastes. "Some things for you Beatrix," she said softly, setting the tray down on the nightstand at the bedside. "Bill will be very happy to know you are awakened...." she tilted her head, "...and much more..." she searched the right English word, "....more focused." She bobbed her head, turned and left.

After that, it was no big surprise that Bill entered the room a few minutes later. He was barefoot and wearing casual lounging around attire. He gave Beatrix a soft smile as he stood briefly against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. On closer inspection, even in the dim lighting, it was possible to see that the smile was perhaps a little tight.

"She awakens once again...." he said dramatically, taking a few steps forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. His dark gaze looked her over for a moment. "How's it feeling? Last I checked the bandages were still dry." He could have made a teasing comment about getting a look at her chest, but it was apparent Bill was not in the mood for much teasing at the moment. He moved his legs to a cross legged sitting position and took sometime to look at the headboard over Beatrix's head. "You look better......this time...so, why don't you tell me the real story about what happened back there."

Beatrix stared at him in silent bafflement. She had been hoping that he would have taken her 'other' side of the story and left it at that. Her features brushed over with ice as she pursed her lips and looked away from him. She stayed in this position for some time before she gave him a fleeting glance. Bill was waiting patiently for her response.

"Fuck," she breathed to herself and turned back away. She was more focused but that didn't mean she was completely. She could tell another lie but at this point he'd know that she was lying due to the fact it would be similar to her past lie. She was left with only one option, the truth. Her head leaned back against the head board and she started in a sandpaper tone, "We were all in the same room and were attacked simultaneously. They had easy targets. I ended up defenseless against someone with more talent and a fucking katana." She paused to get her words back together. "Those fucking sadistic bitches...stood there and...watched. Any one of them could have easily took my target out. I have to admit I wasn't trying to defend myself to the extent I was capable of but, that was only due to my...stupid...thoughts that one of them would aid me...." Her voice cracked a fraction and she snapped her eyelids shut. "If Budd hadn't come in..." She trailed off. The tall blonde warrior was on the brink of cracking. She couldn't, she wouldn't allow herself to. A chill visibly shook her body, she gulped down a lump in her throat, and eyes came half lidded. "Why does it have to be so hard?"

Bill sat silently for an uncomfortable amount of time after Beatrix's truth.....and yes, this time it was the truth...he knew it. He felt a surge of sympathy when she came close to breaking down. He had to fight that.....it was tough, but he couldn't allow himself to react that way, not just yet. It was a tough thing, balancing being a boss and a lover.

After a good two minutes of silence, Bill finally spoke up, his eyes still fixated across the room. "If it wasn't so hard, then I don't think you would enjoy the challenge quite as much." A soft smirk that quickly gave away to a deathly serious expression. "I don't know Kiddo...I honestly don't have a real answer for that." There was a tone of finality in his voice. He knew how difficult this was for her....and he wished he had some comforting answer...but he didn't. He leaned back on his hands, "As for your three coworkers....I suspected as much." A pause, "Jesus.....a little emotional trauma I can handle but when one of my employee's lives gets put at serious risk for something...." his voice rose with anger, "....so fucking stupid!" A deep breath, as he turned to look directly at Beatrix, which was difficult without wanting to comfort her. She looked distraught. "Their motives remain a mystery to me.....but why you lied to protect them," he shook his head, "I know why you did it. But...on the other hand....I don't....."

Bill made a sudden movement, now directly in front of her...a hand clasped on her shoulder firmly, "A straight answer Kiddo....." He seemed adamant to get one this time, "You lied to me....to protect three women who've treated you like shit.....that's....that's what I don't understand...." He wasn't trying to be intimidating per se but he was looking at her with a very intense look that could easily be misconstrued as so.

Beatrix didn't feel intimidated. It took a great deal to get her to that point and even at her weakened emotional state she was anything but intimidated. She wasn't sure how she felt. There was still lingering anger, angst, and a great deal of confusion, that was obvious. She licked her dry lips. "I don't know..." She did know and when Bill gave her that look she was subject to change her response. Damn him.

"If you found out what they did right then you would have reacted...dangerously. And I...didn't want that. All three of them have a right to think what they want, I can't change that, but I thought maybe if I stood up and showed them that I wasn't going to play their game...they'd change their minds and we could all go back to 'loathing' one another."

Bill frowned, but it was a satisfied frown. Another, surprising truth from Beatrix. Maybe she was getting better at the whole concept...

"You thought correct....on all accounts," he said softly, the intense look losing much of its edge. He closed his eyes for a moment, "Thank you....." He settled back on his knees.

"Augh.....fuck....." he suddenly said with a tone of utter exasperation and flopped backwards on his back, hands covering his face. It was rare for Bill to show moments of such frustration and confusion....but if was going to do it, it would most likely be in front of Beatrix.

"I don't know why it has to be this way Kiddo..." his voice was muffled from his hands, "I wish it didn't have to be this way.......you don't deserve it. I do....but you sure as hell don't." He fell silent. Unsure what more there was to be said that both of them didn't already know.

She wasn't really getting any better at the truth concept, she was just giving Bill a break but either way she could feel his frustration. Her own features contorted into a taut line.

Beatrix eyed him steadily until she came to a silent decision in her head. Slowly and gingerly she inched over to him taking in the gap between them. She nonchalantly leaned her body forward and let her head rest against his chest. She would have added arms into the makeshift embrace but that put too much unneeded pressure on her chest. This was good enough. "Pardon me while I supply you with some comforting and overly corny words," she began in a gentle tone laced over with affectionate sarcasm. "Someone once told me," blue eyes gave him a fleeting glance. "That it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks and...that...as long as we have one another that's what really matters." She let out a light laugh after her onrush of 'romantic' intellect. A laugh at herself for her words. It sounded so stupid but it made her feel more comfortable.

Bill chuckled, his arms gently encircling her shoulders....making sure her wound was not being pressed down at all. He glanced down at her, eyes squinting at her with humorous affection, "That was a wise man who said that." A smile. "I like comforting and overly corny words......they remind me that not all of life is about oneself." Indeed, life by oneself was a very lonely game. Of course, you never realized how lonely it was until you weren't by yourself anymore. He let his head fall back, "True words Kiddo....they might sound overly romantic or idealized......but I'd like to believe...that even now........they hold true." Bill paused, staring up at the dim ceiling. "It doesn't matter what Elle thinks...she doesn't like anybody anyways...save for me perhaps...it doesn't matter what Vernita thinks...she's always been too petty..and she's a fool to let a good friend go over something so silly. It doesn't matter what O-Ren thinks....all O-Ren cares about is O-Ren. She's a mover...she's ambitious...and that's what I like about her, but that doesn't make her a good friend. So...that's what you've lost. In turn....you have me. I am many things...." an inward chuckle, "...many things. But," he picked his head up again to look at her, "....I think I'm worth ten of those women." Vain...sure, but this was Bill, he could pull it off. "I'd do anything for you.....name it and I'd do it...Anything you want. I would say I'd kill for you.....but somehow, coming from me, that doesn't have so much weight. Still...if you had ended up getting killed today....by the others negligence......." a long pause, "....I'd have fucking shot all three of them down." There was not an ounce of uncertainty or doubt in his voice.

"That's a comforting thought," she said with a suppressed bit of laughter. She knew for a fact that he was more than capable of doing that and that was what disturbed her. So, she let it go and went back to his earlier confessional love of doing anything for her. That whole statement went back to the idealisms of a man or woman who truly loved one another. The typical female reply to such an idealism would be 'would you die for me?' and of course the typical male response would be 'yes'. But, there was the catch because neither of them would. Beatrix was a killer and Bill was a killer and killers don't die for one another. They can help to try and prevent a death as long as helping doesn't in tow their own. Or they could simply kill one another. It was complex and she didn't want to ask it, because she knew what she thought would be true on all accounts.

She idly nestled the side of her face against him in further affection. There was a brief pause before she spoke again. "Since I'm not dead and there's no need to shoot anyone, how do you plan to handle this?" Her only reasons for asking were to find if Bill planned to do anything drastic because drastic against all three could penalize the one.

Bill had meant absolutely every word of that and he knew Beatrix was more than aware of what he was capable of. But perhaps....she was not aware of just how far he could go....given the situation......just how capable he was of being an outright monster. Monster yes...but, despite it all, despite a lifetime of being looked upon as a self created monster..... he was still a human being. He wove a hand through her hair, contemplating her question. "I haven't decided yet," he admitted in a soft tone. Indeed, he'd sent all three women away on assignments so he could get them far enough away from himself so he could make a clear decision. He realized the weight of his decision. If he reacted too harshly, Beatrix would be the one to receive the consequences....and he didn't want that. He'd rather take on those consequences himself....but he knew that all three women would never do that to him...Beatrix was the obvious target of their revenge. "They can't just walk away from this unpunished," he continued, "But, I don't want it coming back to you...." he trailed off, lost in thought. "I haven't found anything fitting for what they did to you." Bill had a penchant for "fitting punishments"....he generally liked ironic and sadistically deserved punishments over anything conventional.

He laid there once again in silence, lost in his own thoughts. Beatrix was equally as silent. After a few moments, he picked his head up, looking at her closely, "What do you think they deserve?" Bill was one to rarely ask the advice of others. "After all, you're the one who's now got a huge gash across her chest because of their negligence..."

Beatrix tilted her head and stared back at him. A selection of emotions began flipping through her face before she settled on the appropriate one. She shifted back on her knees, up straight without causing a stretch, and away from him but not out of spite. A coy smirk crossed her angelically worn features and she lifted a single digit to settle on his temple. "Give me a second," she muttered lightly. "I'm trying to think like you."

A second passed and she let her hand drop to her side. She found it strange but inviting to know that Bill wanted her opinion on something as drastic as a punishment. Bill always had a way of making one's punishment ironic, relevant, and deserving. In time these 'traits' would rub off on her where she'd make her own punishments completely and utterly influenced by Bill.

"For starters, you should deduct their pay." A faint reminder that she was still going on another two months without a pay check. Not that it mattered all that much. She furrowed her slender brows in further contemplation. "And, harder more challenging assignments that will require more training time to take up their free time." She knew that would get Vernita annoyed. She wasn't fond of training. "No long distance assignments." That was for O-Ren, always taking her assignments in various parts of Japan. Beatrix shifted her position on the bed due to the fact of staying in one position for long irritated her wounds. "They probably deserve more then that but I'm feeling generous.." A lie. She knew they deserved more but she also knew that cutting their fucking heads off wasn't an option. That had to do.

Bill smiled fondly up at Beatrix as she watched her attempt to "get into his mind" so to speak. He had donned much of this "passing of the torch" to her over the years. Sure, he'd been a mentor and teacher to all of the DiVA members...but only with Beatrix had he taken the time to really entrust upon her much of his traits and methods. Of course, this teaching could also be called "corrupting" but in Bill's mind, Beatrix had every capability of being his equal or easily his superior someday. It could be said he was molding her to become himself.....perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement....but it was no accident that he had slowly been doling out these bits of his own characteristics to her. Unfortunately, she possessed a few shortcomings that kept her from his status. But, it was Bill's hope, that perhaps someday, she could overcome these "weaknesses." But, Bill...despite all his ambition and intelligence, would, in the end...find that both of their fates ended up quite differently then his master vision. For now though he had every bit of confidence in Beatrix and her abilities to momentarily "be Bill."

He watched her closely as she listed her ideas for punishments. "Rather lenient of you Kiddo....." he replied when she had finished, "But....fitting enough I think." He paused in thought, "I'm still not paying you am I?" A chuckle. "Hrm....well....I suppose those will have to do then.....I'm sorry to say that dismemberment is not an option for the moment." A dark look, "But....not something I am going to count out for the future." And coming from Bill that was not entirely bullshit. "I am curious to see how they react...." Of course, they both knew how they'd react. It would come back to Beatrix no doubt. But Bill knew Beatrix could handle it....she had proven she could handle nearly anything at this point. She wasn't going to like it, but what else was new? "When they get back....I'll inform them of the.....slight change of policy....."

He focused back on her, smiling in an attempt to break out of that mode. His hands brushed up her upper arms, "Now...how are you feeling? There's a shitload of more drugs if you want them?" A smirk, knowing full well that Beatrix despised being drugged up. "Or...I could make you some of that tea that you so adore...." the smirk widened.

Beatrix pursed her lips in an attempt to conceal her smirk. "Mmm, such tempting choices," she cooed lightly as if she were making a life-threatening decision. Well, that tea could be called 'life-threatening' but she wasn't about to put Bill down too much. "I think," another shift of her body posture. "I am going to be old fashioned and suck it up." This pretty much meant she was going to perfect her mind over matter when it came to pain. As beneficial as this could be it had its consequences. Such as; "I may get bitchy later. For that I apologize." A sly grin crossed her face as she leaned in for a quick kiss.

"You? Bitchy? Nooooo...." Bill smirked as he pulled away from her, "I'll have to watch out for flying plates and such." He shot an equally sly look her direction.

Giving her hand a squeeze he stood up, "I'm going to finish up with some things. I'll be heading to bed in awhile." He fixed her with a mock serious glare, "And when I get back...you'd better be asleep or at least faking it really damn good. Or...I'll be forced to torture you further with more of my inane stories...and that.....would be just be awful for you." A grin and then he turned and walked out, leaving Beatrix to further practice her mind over matter method without further interruption.


	9. Chapter 41

"What?" Vernita's jaw was hanging open. "Bullshit!" She was currently standing between Elle and O-Ren. All three women were staring at the man across from them. The man? Bill, of course. They were having this little standoff on the back patio. Bill hadn't planned it that way, but that's just how it had happened and at this point he didn't much care.

Bill was stoic, silent. He'd just given all three of them this new "slight change of policy" and he now had no further interests to say much else. But, their reactions were no doubt going to prove to be...at the very least...slightly amusing.

"Bitch..." Elle hissed between her teeth, her arms crossing over her chest.

Vernita glanced at Elle, back to Bill, "Yeah...no shit.....," she sneered, "Bill...ya know....we were cool with things before," apparently it was now "we"...,"...but this is going too far! I mean....do you think we're stupid?"

Bill shook his head, "I don't think any of you are stupid," he said softly. "I respect and a-"

"Then why the fuck are you trying to hide the fact that this is all Beatrix's doing? I mean..." a smirk, "....we all know she's got the...intimate bend of your ear....so to speak." A new flash of anger retook Vernita, "FUCK!!" She threw her hands up, turning to look at the others. "I can't believe this!"

Elle, unlike Vernita, had been saying little to Bill. She had a very timid side and it often came out in situations like this. But, she had been mumbling under her breath the entire time. "Fucking bitch," she grumbled, eye focused on the patio tiling.

Bill's already existing frown was increasingly deepening.

O-Ren had been relatively quiet during the exchange of new policies and continued to be so. Her oriental shaded skin was taut and brown eyes flashed. She was obviously going through various plans of action in her head. A fleeting glance was given to her female companions before she spun around and made haste back inside.

Those brown eyes narrowed in on their target. Beatrix was casually sitting at the rounded kitchen table munching on crackers. When everyone had first arrived at Bill's she remained safe in Bill's bedroom. Not that she was exactly 'hiding' from them but she did require more bed rest. The stitches wouldn't come out for another two days and it'd be a shame to ruin the tentative healing process. Blue eyes rose as she heard the patio door open followed by O-Ren.

Before the tall blonde could react she felt a sharp sting against her cheek. That bitch just slapped her. Beatrix's mouth went agog and she cupped an open palm gingerly to her cheek. She was speechless, not that it mattered, O-Ren did the talking.

"You fucking bitch!" O-Ren exclaimed. When she got angry it wasn't a pretty sight even if O-Ren was relatively pretty. "I had important...errands to run down in Tokyo but now seeing as I can't go anywhere out of the fucking united states I can't perform those things."

Now Beatrix was able to reply. "You're lucky I didn't suggest Bill chop you're fucking head off," she sneered between clenched teeth, cold blue eyes stared boring into her at her place at the table. "Ah, that's right," O-Ren cooed darkly. "You're suggesting things to Bill now. That is very sweet of you Bea but do you really think he needs advice from someone like you?"

Beatrix raised a slender brow. "And what is someone like me?"

O-Ren leaned in close and her voice turned soft. "A very...very...silly rabbit."

Elle had caught sight of O-Ren and Beatrix's little.....encounter through the glass patio doors. A quirky smirk twisted her lips, as she watched the two women with a narrowed eye.

Vernita had been entirely focused on Bill. Her hands were on her hips, her head was raised in a stubborn gesture.

Bill, of course...was giving her nothing. Vernita was trying to stare him down, but it was a futile gesture. She could stand like that all day, all week, all year...hell the rest of her fucking life and she wasn't going to get so much as a flinch out of him. He gazed back at her with a determined but calm look. This whole reaction thing didn't faze him in the slightest. He'd seen far, far worse behavior in his life. Of course, all three of these women knew that......they knew that trying to de-sway him was a waste of their time. This, in turn, caused them only more frustration.

"Jesus Bill!!" Vernita yelled once again at him. "Do you realized how fucked up this is?"

"Yes," Bill replied rather vaguely.

"And......and..........well, this is wrong!"

"And when has this been an issue for me before?"

"AUGH!" Vernita spun around, too frustrated with Bill's non-reaction to go on. In her turn, she caught sight of Beatrix and O-Ren at the table. Her dark eyes zeroed in on the tall blonde, "Bitch," she said in a soft deadly tone. She made a lunge towards the patio door, but a firm hand clasped onto her shoulder to freeze her in place.

"You take one more step forward and you're out Vernita," Bill's voice hissed behind her ear. "You're a damn good killer and I would hate to lose you over something so fucking stupid." He didn't specify what "out" and "lose" exactly meant. "Take a moment," he said in that distinctive slow calm voice, "....and think...really think....is getting one good shot on her really worth it?"

Vernita's jaw was set in frustration and anger. "You're protecting her," she grated in-between her clenched teeth.

"Of course I am.....it's fairly normal to protect the ones you love," he replied.

Vernita pulled away from him with a look of disgust. "This isn't right....." she gave him a vile look, "It shouldn't be like this, and you know it. It was better....before."

Bill gave her a placid look, "Better for you maybe, but not for me and I run this organization. And so....this is the way it's going to be." A statement that allowed for no contradiction.

Vernita gave him a feral sarcastic smile and threw herself down onto one of the patio chairs, her eyes narrowed at the backyard in bitter defeat. She'd tried and failed.

Elle had been watching all of this with an irritated but slightly amused look. She'd also been giving split attention to the dining room table....just in case she missed some good bloody action. She turned her look upon Bill's half turned back, blue eye sparkling. Elle was often the queen of randomness. Although often her randomness had a very subliminal point.....it appeared she'd just had one of those twisted thoughts go through her mind. She sauntered up behind him, arms wrapping over his shoulders. "Oh Bill...." she cooed softly in his ear, posturing herself behind him like some attention starved cat, ".....your happy now baby.....but that wears off...." her hands began a slow path down his chest, her fingernails digging into his shirt, "....what will happen then....hrm? What...will...you...do...?"

Bill had froze. At first he had thought Elle was just playing around like she had a tendency to do. He and Elle had a strange relationship and her clinging onto him was not something new. But his expression grew more disturbed as her hands crept lower and her fingernails dug in deeper.

"She'll fuck you over....I know she will......" Elle whispered, "And I...er...we'll still be here for you....," her voice and hands dropped even lower, "You know you can count on me....ya know.....I would-"

"ELLE!" Bill suddenly shouted and shoved her violently away, looking thoroughly disturbed now. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Elle put on an innocent girly expression, "What? I was just trying to comfort you..." This was followed by a dramatic hurt expression.

"Comfort me?" Bill glared at her, taking a few more steps away, "That was not..... comforting......besides...I don't need to be fucking comforted. Jesus Elle! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Vernita was staring at Elle with a raised eyebrow. That sure had seemed to get to Bill. Leave it to Elle to find a way to rattle him.

Bill looked as if he had just drank some terribly bitter wine, it perhaps once had been a good thought but at the moment...it didn't go down very well. He turned away with disgust and went inside heading for O-Ren and Beatrix.

Elle put on a pouty lip and sat down in the chair next to Vernita.

"You're fucked up Elle," Vernita said with a smirk.

"I know," Elle smirked back.

"Who's fucked up?" Budd questioned as he came around the corner of the house and onto the patio. He had arrived a few moments before, rang the front door bell, and when that cute little door lady answered she seemed ill at ease and told him it was best to go around the back. So, here he was, wearing a pair of casual blue jeans, a white stretch tank top and over that a dark blue button up shirt with some sports team name on the back.

"Elle," Vernita said.

Budd stared at Elle for a long moment. "Oh," he finally said, obviously finding it nothing to get too excited about it, they already knew that. He puckered his lips a moment and settled into the last vacant patio chair. "Anywho, where's Bill?"

Meanwhile, back in the dining room O-Ren and Beatrix were attempting a deadly stare off. Neither woman was bringing the other to falter. It was a lost cause. Both broke their attention when the sliding of the patio door was heard followed by the cool tapping of shoes, distinctly Bill's.

O-Ren stiffened up, turned away, and walked out to the front door. She was through for the day.

Beatrix was wearing a sheet of ice but when O-Ren left and she turned her blue eyes to Bill she began to melt. Her brows furrowed and she rose to her feet. "They slap you too?" She questioned quizzically. Bill looked....shaken...rattled, something that she usually didn't see in him. Beatrix could bring out numerous emotions in Bill that no one else would witness but this emotion she'd never be able to muster.

Elle glanced up at Budd with a revolted expression. "He went inside," she said in a snitty voice.

"Yeah," Vernita snorted, "Elle....scared him away."

Elle flashed a genuinely hurt expression, but she quickly replaced it with her typical smirk. "Yeah, well...it's not my fault he can't handle the truth."

"If that's what ya wanna call it....." Vernita chuckled and then glanced at Bill's younger sibling, "What's up Budd?"

Bill stood in front of Beatrix, that same rattled expression on his face. "No...no...slap...." he said in a distracted voice. Slaps he could handle, but Elle....that.....was a little....weird. Now, Bill was certainly a man and generally most men didn't mind it when attractive women came on to them. But.....Elle.....he couldn't quite grasp. Did he find her attractive to begin with? Well...yes...to an extent....but on the other hand.....he found all of them attractive. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to act on it. Thus, contrary to the popular misconception of him, he was not sleeping with all of his employees.....only one at the moment. The fact that he was with Beatrix aside, he was still a little frazzled over it. There was something in the way she spoke to him.....not to mention her hands.....

He opened his mouth and then shut it. He placed a hand on his chest, where he could still feel Elle's fingernails. "Ah...." He began rather lamely, "Elle....attempted a.....different path of persuasion." He blinked, gazing at Beatrix with a very warm look. He needed to wipe that disturbing memory from his mind.......right now. Undaunted by the fact that half of the DiVA's were sitting nearby on the patio, he took a step towards Beatrix. "I...just.....I...need to.....do this..." he faltered and pulled her face towards his.

Beatrix willing came in to the kiss. In many ways she needed that too even if it was short lived it made up for a lot. The kiss broken she tenderly leaned her forehead against his and let her hands fall against his chest. She could only imagine what Elle's persuasion techniques involved and she honestly didn't want to imagine it. She could understand perfectly why Bill was so...revolted.

"Feel better now, baby?" She asked lightly.

"I heard all a ya were comin' over here and I felt left out," Budd replied to Vernita's 'what's up' question. That was basically the truth. Budd could be a nosey-body but it was mostly out of curiosity. "So, I'm guessin' this little shin-dig is about the other day, huh?" He parted his legs in front of him in a manly posture, hands on his thighs. "I gotta give it to ya gals, that was a pretty fucked up thing to do and all. Bet Bill got ya real good for it too." He cleared his throat nonchalantly and leveled an eye on both Vernita and Elle. "But I don't see no blood anywhere."

Bill smiled with relief and gratitude, forehead still resting against Beatrix's. "Yes....much better....." he said softly, a hand coming up to rest on top of one of hers. 'Violated' by one deadly tall blonde and consoled by another within a matter of minutes.....such was the life of Bill...it really wasn't all that bad. He could have told her details on the other's reactions, but he knew she knew well enough. He didn't need to remind her just how much they all despised her. She didn't need him to protect her against them either....Beatrix could sure as hell hold her own. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little protective.

He gave her another small smile. "At least Budd doesn't hate you Kiddo."

Beatrix couldn't help but laugh lightly at that remark. "That makes me feel so much better," she teased fondly. Actually, she was quite relieved that Budd didn't hate her. She liked Budd when he wasn't being a complete ass, such as she liked Bill when he wasn't being a complete bastard. She wasn't sure if she could take loosing another 'friend' over something so stupid.

She shifted and took a small reluctant step away from him and tilted her chin to her chest. "Suppose I should go out and meet the shooting squad. No point in avoiding it because if I don't it'll most likely end up during an assignment and...I...we...don't want that to happen again."

Unaware of this little.....interlude going on in the house behind them...Vernita and Elle both chuckled, perhaps a little nervously, at Budd's comment.

"Bill's not himself," Vernita said with a dark look. "He's currently being brainwashed."

"We had our reasons for doing what we did," Elle added, crossing her long legs. "Bill just can't see it right now. But, eventually...he will. And when he does, he'll have wished we'd gone further." With a delighted little smirk, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes; taking one for herself she offered the pack to Budd.

"He punished us with a bunch of bureaucratic shit....," Vernita leaned back, "No doubt Bea was behind it all." Vernita wasn't really sure she agreed with Elle's gloom and doom theory, but what really pissed her off was Bea's new ability to get away with whatever the hell she wanted.

"Hrm..no bloodshed though," Elle quipped, taking a drag from her cigarette. "Maybe next time," a sadistic twinkle lit up her eye. Elle seemed far less upset than the other two about the "punishments." Oh sure, it was annoying, but she liked to consider herself beyond that sort of shit. She'd deal.....just as she'd always dealt. And like a true snake....she'd wait patiently and strike when she saw the perfect opportunity.....even if that required for her to chew up one of her own kind. After all, she was the California Mountain Snake.

"No need to feel left out Budd," Vernita continued, "I'm sure Bill would be more than willing to dole out a couple punishments to you as well...just for kicks. Of course, he'd have to meet with his...."female half" first." Her voice dripped with bitterness. "Fucking bitch."

Elle gave Vernita a look of newly found appreciation, "Ya know Vern," she pointed at the other woman with her lit cigarette,"....I used to despise you....but I think I'm starting to like ya......just a litle bit."

Budd was busy fiddling with the packet of cigarettes that Elle had given him. "Goddamn," he stated poking a cigarette out of the packet and twiddling it around between his thumb and index fingers. "You gals are acting like Bea went and stole your boyfriend." He chuckled at this and shook his head when a new idea sparked. "Ya know, if I got Bea to fuck me instead a Bill I'd have all of you all over me." Of course Budd was joking. He didn't much agree with what the three women did to Beatrix but he was smart not to get in the middle of it. Instead he preferred dirty humor.

Bill motioned towards the patio doors, "Well, if that's what you so desire. They are ready to fire at will...." He wasn't too keen on Beatrix doing this, but he did see her point...better now than out on an assignment. At least here, he could keep a sharp eye on things. He followed Beatrix out onto the patio, giving those present a deep frown...although he was actually quite glad to see that Budd had shown up. Besides himself, Budd was the only other person on her "side" so to speak. Vernita had just gotten over smirking at Budd for his last remark. It was somewhat funny.....although, in the end, she didn't find it all that amusing. "Nobody's going to fuck you Budd..." she mumbled, just as Bill and Beatrix appeared.

Elle had not found Budd's comment amusing at all. And she was utterly silent once again, smoking away with a clouded expression on her face. If Budd wasn't such a fucking dickhead he might even be slightly attractive to her.....but forget it....he was nothing more than bushwacking white trash. And little comments like his last one just didn't help to improve his station in her mind. When Beatrix and Bill walked onto the patio, Elle gave the other blonde an icy look and quickly turned away to find something else to look at. Vernita, on the other hand, was full out glaring at Beatrix. "I hope you've got something really fucking nice to say Bea," she hissed, "Because I ain't got time for anything else.."

The tall blonde was positioned beside Bill, hovering very close with arms crossed over her chest and a haughty expression on her face. She really wanted to be 'civil' about this whole confrontation and preferably no bullet holes. At the moment her chances were slim. Her temper was moderate and in hopes of keeping it that way she decided to try going smart ass on Vernita's ass. "Oh, Vernita, you look so pretty today," she piped in an overly enthusiastic voice.

Budd chuckled at this as he leaned over and handed Elle back her cigarette pack. He didn't much care what anyone thought of him and even if they did think things they were probably true and he wasn't going to argue it. He settled back in patio chair and stretched his legs out. He tipped his head in Bill and Beatrix's direction. "Like I said a long while back, they make a cute...couple."

Vernita gave Beatrix an equally wide sarcastic grin, "Oh wow! Thank you so much Bea! And, I must say...you look absolutely stunning today!" The smile quickly melted into a snarl. Bitch. Leave it to Beatrix to play this angle and with Bill standing right behind her. Oh, she was good....she'd give her that. She knew how to play this little game very well.

Knowing that if she got hostile now, it would look like an obvious ploy to pick a fight, Vernita fell silent for the moment. Her burning look averted slightly away from the tall blonde.

Bill looked at his brother with a furrowed brow. He didn't really "get" the whole cute couple thing that kept getting tossed out to them. Sure, he wasn't complaining.....but..."cute" did not describe him in the slightest. Beatrix....perhaps....although, he thought she was more beautiful than cute nowadays. But, that was just it.....aesthetically the two of them were like two sides of the same deadly coin. Beatrix seemed to embody everything graceful, feminine, angelic and stunningly gorgeous all blended together with that powerful dose of killer prowess. Bill, on the other hand, seemed to embody everything jaded, hard, brutally male and devilishly cunning, all roughly bound together with the look of lifetime murderer. And thus, perhaps, that is what created such an interesting and thus "cute" juxtaposition between the two.

Elle hummed a few notes from "Beauty and the Beast," and then went back to smoking. She'd barely taken a glance at the two of them and decided to retain that scary complacently calm look on her face. She knew her place.

Bill was glaring at Vernita over Beatrix's shoulder. "Well, Vernita...for a woman who wouldn't shut up minutes ago, you're sure quiet now."

Vernita gave him an acidic look. "Fuck off Bill."

Bill raised a dangerous eyebrow.

Beatrix took a step back and came up and beside Bill. She weaved an arm around him and leaned in close. "He already has," she inclined in an overly sensual tone.

Budd had been nibbling at the bitter end of his cigarette when he suddenly inhaled and almost chocked. He slapped his thigh and let the cigarette fall to the ground. "Fucking shit!" He pointed a dramatic finger at the tall blonde. "I didn't need to know that."

She merely shrugged it off. Budd leaned forward in the patio chair and clasped open palms against his face and rubbed. "Now I've got such fucked up pictures in my head," he growled, rather annoyed by this and perhaps even disturbed.

"That was..." Beatrix tilted her head in Budd's direction, her facade placid. "My intention."

Bill raised both of his eyebrows, turning slowly to look at Beatrix with something of a very amused look on his face, his lip twisted with humor.

"Oh Christ!!!" Vernita stood up, looking revolted, her reaction far less cordial than Budd's. "Couldn't you just......leave some things to the greater mysteries of life? None of us wanted to know that!"

Elle had a strange mixture of horror and interest on her face. Inwardly, she far less appreciated Beatrix's little comment even less than anybody else, but only a small spark of anger flared up in her eye to show this. She knew Beatrix had said that just to spite them, and she wasn't going to give her what she wanted.

"Well Bea...." Vernita took a few steps away, as if trying to get away, "Consider your mission accomplished," she spat. "I'm officially disgusted with you now."

"Hrm," Bill shrugged nonchalantly, his own arm wrapped around Beatrix now, "To each their own."

Elle raised an eyebrow, her piercing gaze focused directly on Bill. Still, she remained silent.

Vernita's nose scrunched up in further disgust, "I'm outta here......Have a lovely wonderful day." She gave each of them a glare and turned and marched into the house and out the front door.

Elle took a large pull on her cigarette, "Mrm...."

Beatrix kept her eyes on Vernita as she passed. "I intend to do that too," she modestly added before the patio door was slammed shut. She didn't give a fuck if she disturbed everyone present with her bit of information. It had been her intention all along, in one manner or another. She didn't want to fight and scaring them off was the next best tactic.

"Ah, fuck," Budd grumbled as he pushed off the chair and stood up. He glanced over to Elle as she was still sitting down, contently taking in her cigarette. He narrowed eyebrows at her. "Yeah, only one here not completely disgusted by that is Elle."

Beatrix had to add something to that. "That's because Elle gets off on that type of thing."

Elle smirked, "I'll leave that answer up to you Budd baby...." she stood up, flicking her still lit cigarette right at his groin. "But....you'll never know one way or another...." She gave a saucy sway of her hips and sauntered past Bill and Beatrix. She gave Bill a kiss on the cheek as she passed by, "It's been a real splendid time." Her eye slid to Beatrix for a brief cool stare and then she followed the recently departed Vernita's path through and out the house.

"Well," Bill turned to look at Beatrix with a bemused look, "It appears your tactic worked Kiddo.....we've managed to revolt and alienate all of those around us." A flash of a grin, "Not an easy accomplishment with our sort."

Bill turned and glanced at his brother, who was still standing there, with his hands in his pockets. And what of Budd? Budd was so kicked back he was often hard to read. Even Bill had a difficult time finding out his brother's true feelings on things. He'd often get a general vibe, but there was a lot hidden underneath that shit kicker attitude. Bill's brown eyes met his brother's similarly brown ones, "Well Budd..." he said softly, "It looks like your all we've got...." a smirk.

Budd hooked his thumbs out of his pockets and looked over to Bill. He looked a tad uneasy but he was more or less kicked back. He was still disgusted with what he heard. Finding out that shit on Elle could have been just as revolting but subconsciously he could have guessed that. He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, well, don't go thinkin' I approve of all of this..."

Beatrix cut in cordially, "We aren't asking for your approval." She was leaning against Bill with an arm still wrapped around him. Her expression was placid and any of her earlier hostility had vanished.

Budd stared at the tall blonde a moment in a stare that registered unspoken words. He blinked and turned on Bill. "Don't you dare fucking think of getting married."

Beatrix laughed out loud quickly after Budd gave out his 'threat'. "Hell, no." She quickly half turned to Bill and gingerly put a hand to his chest. "No offense baby." A coy smile.

Bill's hand had crept up and unconsciously was fiddling around with the ends of Beatrix's hair that were lying against her shoulders. Half of the time he didn't even realize he was doing it...it was simply one of those things. When Budd had muttered the dreaded "M" word, Bill's hand froze momentarily, his eyes widening briefly. His expression read of utter revolution for a brief moment. "No offence taken Kiddo," he smirked at Beatrix. Indeed, if anybody was not going to take offence to that, it was Bill. Married for him.....was like.........nice for Elle. It just didn't even fit into his scheme of thinking. He'd never been the type, he never would be the type. He had never even considered it once in his entire life.

"Fuck no!" He replied after a moment of getting over the mere shock of hearing the word out of Budd's mouth. "Like hell I'm getting married!" He knew Beatrix would take that the right way as well. "Goddamn...the very thought makes me...augh..." he put on a disgusted face, not finding the right word to describe just how much he loathed the very thought of marriage. "I wouldn't allow Beatrix to marry me....even if for some fucking bizarre reason she wanted to." He gave her shoulders a little squeeze. "That would be unusually cruel."

"Indeed," she replied with a content smile taut across her angelic features. The subject was so impossible it was humorous. Usually in 'serious' relationships the next step or the step that one tried to build up to was marriage. Once this was accomplished it would supposedly be bliss. But, for the two killers as long as they agreed on that never happening then they were both perfectly content. It was fucked up anyway.

Once Budd was for certain that nothing was going to go further than whatever the fuck the two were currently involved in Budd could 'drink' easy. He slouched his shoulders in a posture that put him at ease. He chuckled. "I can just see it now," he mused with friendly mockery. "Mrs. Beatrix Bill."

Beatrix raised a slender eyebrow and her lips tugged into a wider smile. "B...B...I like that."

Budd wove a hand at her. "Stick with one B, Bea."

Bill was as protective of his given last name as he was of his very soul. In fact, the only person aware of it was the man who shared it with him, Budd. Call it.....a family secret. Besides, just plain ol' "Bill" sounded a lot cooler.

He chuckled at Budd and Beatrix's little exchange, glad that he and Beatrix saw eye to eye on this whole "anti-marriage" thing. "Too many fucking B's around here...." he added, "Damn confusing...."

He turned and smiled at Beatrix with warm affection. "I don't think anybody needs to worry about the swapping of names and such.....I could barely name a fucking stuffed animal....I'm not exactly original when it comes to that sorta thing. I think Beatrix suits you fine........Kiddo...." he chuckled, bringing a hand up to push some stray bangs out of her eyes. "One Bea...suits me fine." Smiling at himself for that rather overly sappy comment, he turned back to Budd with a smart ass smirk. "Well....my culturally handicapped brother, you're just going to have to find yourself a lady of your own. You're starting to frighten me a bit in your lack of womanizing lately."

Budd displayed no further 'uneasy' or disturbed actions by Bill and Beatrix's intimate interaction. As long as Bill was happy Budd wasn't going to justify it. As said before he didn't approve of it and no one gave a fuck if he did but it was more the morals of it. If Bill was happy, Budd was happy because if Bill was happy he'd be less likely to get shit thrown at him.

He chuckled again. "Find me a lady? Nah, I'm happy with my two penny whores."

Beatrix narrowed her blue eyes in a scrutinizing gaze. "You sure?"

"Shit yeah. I mean, if I was gonna have any other lady I woulda tried for you, Bea. But Bill beat me too it. Damn." He snapped his fingers as if he was really disappointed by this. He was joking and he knew that they knew he was joking.

The tall blonde's smile curved into a smirk as she canted her chin down. "You'd have better luck with Elle then you ever would with me." Budd stared at her a moment with pursed lips. He smacked his lips and shook his head forcefully. "That one-eyed-viking-bitch? Don't think so."

Bill watched his brother closely. Sure, Budd was joking around...but there was some truth to his jokes. Bill had always known that Budd was "sweet" on Bea. He could of course, understand that fully. Even when they were younger there had been occasions when they were both interested in the same woman. Maybe they had similar tastes....then again, maybe it was just some twisted form of sibling rivalry. But, mostly...Budd was messing around and even if he wasn't he knew better than to get in the way of Bill and what he wanted. Besides, Budd seemed to treat Beatrix like....some overly deadly sister...or something of that nature.

Bill shook his head, "You and your two penny whores Budd. I was hoping you had at least moved up to call girls at this point in your life....but I guess not." He paused on the Elle thought. Bill was a little iffy with Elle at the moment. "Elle..." he chuckled, eyeing his brother again, ".....she'd chew you up and spit you out. Budd....before you even knew what happened to you...."

Budd noticeably cringed. "That there is what I'm afraid of."

"I wouldn't worry yourself too much, Budd," Beatrix reassured with an inner weaving of sarcasm. "Elle wouldn't want you if you were the last man on earth."

"That makes me feel so much better," he replied tartly and began a slow walk in the 'couple's direction. "Anywho, I'll let you two get back to fucking off." He stopped a few feet from the patio door and gave them a long look. Numerous thoughts ran through the cowboy's head, but he wouldn't voice them. He moistened his lips and they curved into a devilish grin. "Don't get too dirty with 'em, Bea. He's not as young as he use ta be. May give him a heart attack."

Beatrix stifled a laugh and raised knowing brows. "I'll be careful."

Bill laughed, taking all of that in good humor. In the right mood, Bill could find his brother quite amusing.

"Ya know Budd.....I do believe, if I had a first choice in my way to go.....that would most definitely be it," a smirk in Beatrix's direction. And that was the damn truth. Maybe having a full out old school samurai sword fight on a sunny beach with a worthy enemy would be a close second though.

He watched his brother leave, and then turned back to Beatrix. "Do I really seem that old?" He smiled at her with a glint of sarcasm, as he wrapped his arm anew around her torso, his face hovering close to hers. "I don't feel all that old at the moment..." he raised a suggestive eyebrow.

She idly bopped her forehead against his and settled it there. A smile was cordially playing across her lips. "No, you don't seem that old," she reinstated gently. She knew Bill didn't give a fuck about his age and neither did she but what Budd said was highly amusing.

"You're a..." Her arms looped around his neck. "Fucked up kid at heart. And I find that to be a very worthy quality in a lover."

Bill chuckled, a smile playing across his face. Indeed, he didn't give a shit about his age...nor Beatrix's age...nor the fact that they both killed other human beings for a living. All he cared about was that, despite all the "wrongs" with he and Beatrix, he knew it was right. He'd known it was right long before they had entered this.....phase. He'd never cared what anybody thought...hell, if he did....he probably wouldn't be doing what he did. What mattered was her....and of course, himself. And...despite all of the bickering and disapproval amongst the other DiVA members, the two of them were content.

He closed the small distance between them, lips brushing against hers, "Why don't we go inside....." he said in a husky tone, "And I'll show you just how fucked up I am....." another smile, knowing how truly over dramatized that sounded. "Well....at the very least, I'll do my best.....not to keel over on you...."

With arms wrapped around one another, the two assassins went inside shutting the patio door behind them.


	10. Copperhead vs The Black Mamba Round 1

"As a verified member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad you hereby comply with all designated rules and regulations stated in the material below. If so, please print your name here, codename here, and signature on this line." Every year on the so-called anniversary of when Bill first 'created' the DiVAS it was mandatory that all members had to sit through two long grueling hours of going back over their contracts. This entailed; signing a shit load of lines with a little black x, reviewing old rules and sometimes a few added new ones, establishing salary, and other details that didn't group in the category of fun.

It was that time of year, the 'official' date in which the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad came to be. Usually Bill met with two Vipers at a time but this year he had help. Sofie Fatale proved to be a worthy protégé when it came to the legal-issues of the organization, which could have been one of the many reasons he hired her. Each Viper came in and met with either Bill or Sofie at a designated time throughout the day. It was two o'clock in the afternoon and Bill was meeting with Elle in the business room while Beatrix sat with Sofie in the living room.

There was a shit load of documents spread out on the oak wood table top and two chairs opposite one another. Beatrix was sitting up straight with a ball point pen in-between her fingers, her other arm folded on the table top. Blue eyes were performing a quick skim through of what was just vocalized to her. She was trying to be somewhat professional about it even though it was almost the same thing each year. She knew what it said. She idly brought the pen down in authentic and not the neatest penmanship in the world she signed on the lines. She slipped the paper back in Sofie's direction, her expression docile.

"Very good," Sofie stated in an all out professional tone, she was taking this very seriously. Like a real life lawyer, it was kinda funny. She shuffled the papers on the table, all in neat stacks, and reviewed another large context of documents in front of her. "Now Miss. Kiddo you are aware that due to no circumstances are you allowed to neither break this contract nor question it. If for any desired reason you choose to, as strategically quoted, 'You better have a damn good fucking reason for it.'" She cleared her throat and handed Beatrix the document to sign, again.

"Next;" Another stack of papers placed out. Beatrix's lips twitched in a noticeable point of annoyance. Sofie didn't notice nor did she care and continued, "Bill has printed that you are still withdrawn from your designated salary for another two months. When that time has concluded you will be set back to your starting salary and will in time work back up to where you left..."

"What?" Perhaps one of the few words Beatrix said throughout the whole forty minutes she had been sitting there. "He's not putting me back on the salary he took off?" Her tone hinted at a rising anger. "It's taken me a good year to work up to that amount..."

"Beatrix," Sofie interrupted in a bluntly serious tone. "There is a sticky note here." She poked it off from the document and read aloud; "Please tell, Kiddo that she should know better then to question my tactics and that no....personal...issues will conflict with business." She set the sticky note back down, her eyes half lidded on the tall blonde. "Sign on the line."

Beatrix's blue eyes flashed and she roughly snatched the pen back up and scribbled her name down. She pushed the paper back at Sofie. At that moment a familiar and hellishly annoying cell phone ring tone echoed in the room. Sofie held up a finger and flipped out her cell phone. "Hello? Yes..." She began to rise from her seat and gave Beatrix a fleeting glance as she muttered, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Take a break." She then shuffled into the hallway to continue her conversation.

"Now...Miss Driver......," a long pause, "Elle!!"

Elle's drooping head snapped up, "Uh...sorry Bill...." She looked completely bored out of her skull...very likely she'd just nodded off. Bill frowned, giving her a glare before going back to the large spread of papers sitting on the table between the two of them. In an attempt to make this whole affair more "business-like", he was currently wearing a suit that even would make good old Bob proud in its quality. Elle on the other hand, was highly lacking in the business attire department at the moment. Her loudly colored button up shirt was conveniently unbuttoned on the top; her pants were tight Capri's...on her feet; stiletto heeled sandals.

"As I was saying...." Bill started again with an annoyed raise of an eyebrow, "Going over your business expense sheet." He pushed the piece of paper to her side of the table, "I have highlighted some questionable items that you've apparently written off as business expenses on this years tax forms."

Elle looked over the piece of paper with a flippant look, "Yeah....so...looks legit to me."

Bill leaned forward, "A '78 Trans Am is not a business expense Elle, neither is a Whirlpool bathtub."

Elle folded her arms, "I needed the car to get me to assignments and the tub to recover from such said assignments."

"And the baby Kimono Dragon you ordered from a private breeder in Brazil?"

"She's "

Bill looked unimpressed. "Not a business expense.....like all of that shit I've highlighted." He went back to his own ledger; pen in hand, "This is all going to be deducted from your upcoming salary." He wrote a few figures in the legers many columns.

"Fuck!" Elle hissed, "That's real shitty of you Bill."

"Welcome to the real world Elle," Bill replied, eyes still on his own work, "It's me who ends up paying for your expenses. I have to gain that loss back somehow and your salary is the best way to do it."

Elle stood up, lips pursed out, "Fine.....I don't need it anyways."

Bill looked up, "Do you want me to cut your entire salary then? That could be arranged."

"No...." Elle's eye widened sarcastically, she spun on her heel, "I'm going to get a drink.......it's the only thing that's going to get me through this torture." Bill smirked and went back to his paperwork. He could find something sadistic in nearly everything...even droll legal issues.

It seemed both blondes had similar ideas on what would get them through the long day. Beatrix already had a crystal glass filled with crushed ice on the counter top. As Elle approached the bar area she could see Beatrix clad in a pair of blue jeans, black round neck t-shirt, a zip-up hoodie tied around her waist, and a pair of neon yellow sandals. Locks of blonde hair were layered like a veil against the sides of her face as head tipped down to view the liquor contents in the bottom cabinet. She heard Elle's distinct foot steps but didn't bother to look up. She snatched a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and came back to her full height. Blue eyes couldn't help but take a glance at Elle. She looked just as irritated as Beatrix was. She set the vodka on the counter with a dramatic thud. "Want one?" She questioned in a casual tone.

Elle sauntered up to the other blonde causally, she seemed too irritated and tired to care that the blonde happened to be Beatrix. "I'll take two...." she said in a crackly voice. After a moment, she sat down on one of the stools. She plopped her elbows on the countertop, resting her face in her hands. "I think I'd rather be meeting with that French bitch than Bill...." she mumbled into her hands. "He's being a fucking asshole." She looked up, "Like....why can't I use his money to buy a Kimono Dragon baby? It's not like I don't work my ass off for his goddamn organization every day of my life....augh...." she went back to covering her face.

When Beatrix set down two glasses of vodka in front of her, Elle reached out and drowned one in a single long gulp. "I hate this shit.....it gives me a headache," it was hard to tell if she was referring to the vodka itself or the whole....legal issues day. She didn't seem to mind that it was Beatrix that she was currently conversing with. But, with Elle...that could change any moment.

Beatrix stood behind the counter with the glass of vodka in hand. She had an arched brow at Elle's mumble about a Kimono Dragon but she wasn't going to even ask. Unlike Elle, Beatrix used her money more or less wisely. She wasn't brought up to be a spoiled brat and so that trait didn't come off in her adult years. Thus, she didn't need a ton of expensive shit to get by in life. "Sofie's no better then Bill," she stated dryly. That wasn't saying much to compare the two but they dealt with legal issues in a similar fashion. She downed half of her drink in another quick gulp. "But, for the moment, I'm glad I'm stuck with her. You have my sympathies." A coy smirk was hidden behind the raised glass.

"Yeah.....bahh..." Elle waved a disregarding hand. Of course, deep down, Elle was much happier she was stuck with Bill, but she wouldn't say that. "I'll manage," she picked up her other glass of vodka. "I think I'd be more likely to kick that bitch's ass than Bill's..."

As if on cue, Bill came strolling up the hallway, "Christ Elle! Let's not take all day here...there's still a hell of a lot more to go through...." his gaze slid to Beatrix and he gave her an affectionate smirk before returning his glare back to Elle, "Come on....you can take the drink back in." He placed a hand on the small of her back as if to literally push her back down the hallway. Elle cast a glance at Beatrix and then with her head slightly bent she trudged back into the meeting room. Bill, despite the quick glance at Beatrix, was all business. Doing all of this shit took a good amount of concentration and he needed to make sure he was not distracted, even the slightest bit. "I found a rather....questionable bunch of receipts with your stuff......" he began, back on Elle's case. His voice faded away as he shut the door behind them.

"Beatrix?"

The tall blonde blinked away from the closed door down the hallway and turned to look at the French/Japanese woman that had returned to the table. "Are you ready?" She questioned with a slight bit of irritability in her tone.

"No."

"Pardon?"

"Yes," Beatrix said louder and she finished off her vodka before rejoining Sofie against her will.

It was drawing near to the end of the piles of paper that had to be reviewed and signed. Beatrix was busying herself by fiddling with her pen as Sofie was reading off the finer print. "Sign there and we're almost through."

"Thank god," Beatrix muttered. They had gone past the usual two hours it took to do all of this shit. It was only because Sofie insisted going over the fine, fine print on some of the less important documents. Beatrix was tempted to rip her fucking arm off but restrained herself with a great deal of self control. Sofie took back the sheet of paper and put it in the pile. She held a pleased smile on her face. "All done. Now," she fixed Beatrix with a hard look. "That wasn't all that bad, was it?"

Beatrix was slouched back in her chair, hands stretched out on the arms of the chair. Her pretty blonde head canted to the side. "I don't know. Is being thrust through the gut with a metal rod all that bad?"

Sofie scrunched up her nose in disgust. She rose from her seat and began to stack up the signed documents. "I'll go," she began flatly, disregarding Beatrix's earlier comment. "We're finished." With a few of the papers in hand she hustled down the hall way. When she came into the office she found that Elle had gone and Vernita was now in her place. She gave the woman a respectable smile and settled the papers on an empty place on Bill's desk. She leaned over to him. "Beatrix is done. I'll have everything filed by tomorrow morning."

"Excellent work. Thank you Sophie," Bill replied with a genial smile to his protégée lawyer. "Ah..., wait," he placed a hand on her forearm as she turned to leave. "I have a couple questions for you....."

Vernita was watching from her chair on the other side of the table with her arms crossed. She was frowning and had the beginnings of an impatient and tortured expression on her face. She'd only been at this for an hour....she had sometime to go. It wouldn't be long until she was just as exasperated as Elle and Beatrix had been.

Bill splayed a few sheets of paper on the desk in front of Sophie, "Now....does Vernita need to sign both of these? This one was from last year's reports.....this," he picked up another, "I'm not sure what the fuck it is...." He furrowed his brow, sifting through some other papers, "And.....does this need to be filed or can I toss it?" Vernita stifled a yawn with a hand. God, how could Bill and Sophie stand to do this sort of shit was beyond her. Just give her a good knife and a gut to stick it in and she was happy. But this.....was just flat out boring.

"Oh...and this one," Bill picked up a carbon copy sheet, "I don't think Vernita needs to be concerned with this one....but I just wanted to make sure." He gave Sophie a calm but pleading look. He had some idea what he was doing, but Sophie was the real expert on this sort of thing.....thus why he was so thankful to have her around. "Help me my dear....." he pleaded with a half smile. Vernita tried not to roll her eyes and instead decided to stare out the nearby window.

Sofie was more then willing to help her boss. She could be very loyal and especially with her best friend, O-Ren's interest involved she wasn't about to let down either of them. The woman stood behind the desk and beside Bill as she began shuffling through the papers he had questioned. She held a pleased smile on her face. It was as if the woman thrived to be asked these types of things. "This one I was concerned about," she took the sheet of paper and placed it to the side. "And this, I'd have her sign as a repercussion." She glanced to Bill. "As I was told by a mentor of mine, when documents are involved its best to get it signed then not signed at all." She turned back and shuffled numerous papers into a designated pile. "These aren't of a great importance but it doesn't hurt..." She went on like this for a good ten minutes until she stood back up straight instead of leaning over the desk. "There, I do believe that covers it. Can I be of assistance with anything else?"

Bill watched Sophie sort and explain all of this with a look of genuine thankfulness and interest. Vernita on the other hand looked like she was going to go insane. This was fucking torture! And Sophie's prissy, oh-so-ready to please attitude just made it all the worse. And that goddamn cell phone.... Vernita swore if it rang in front of her one more time...she was going to take it and shove it up Sophie's ass. Bill looked very contented with Sophie's "work", "My god Sophie...what would I do without you?" He smiled, pulling her dainty face down for a big kiss on the cheek. Vernita nearly gagged. What Bill saw in this Sophie woman was beyond her. Sure, she was good with paperwork and shit....but she wasn't even nearly as charming as Bill acted like she was. Bill straightened up the piles she's already just straightened up. "I think that's all I needed Sophie....if I have any other questions I'll be sure to call you." Sophie continued to look pleased with herself. Vernita smirked....this woman loved getting phone calls.....no doubt she just hoping Bill would call with some boring legal issue to go over.

"Thank you again my dear." Bill said, again the proud twinkle in his eye.

Verntia shifted in her chair uncomfortably and Bill caught on. "Ok...now that Sophie has sorted that out...we can get back down to business Vernita."

"Oh joy...." Vernita retorted dryly.

Seeing that it was the anniversary of the 'creation' of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad it was only proper for a celebration to occur. It was a big feat to keep an organization that killed people running so successfully. The squad itself was about twelve years old but it took a good twenty years before the organization was up to top notch and running efficiently. Usually this celebration was held at Bill's or another area that was strictly Vipers only but this year that could become complicated. So, Bill gave everyone directions to a small Mexican border town where a supposed 'good friend' lived. Surprisingly everyone came in separate cars, even Beatrix. Bill had given out directions when everyone left after their legal issues were discussed. These directions entailed; directions to this good friend's abode as well as something on the back which stated; if any of them misbehaved it would not be a pleasant evening. It was a logical solution to their 'celebrating' dilemma. As long as the Vipers were in strange company it was more likely they'd behave around them. This wasn't a fact but it was a greater possibility then if they were alone.

This abode belonged to a man named Peter. He was a longtime client and sometime friend of Bill's. Bill could trust him and he was very low key...which was what the Viper's needed right now...in Bill's mind. Peter was rich, like all of Bill's clients, but he didn't flaunt it to the extreme such as Raul and Vincent did. His house was very similar to Bill's. The stylings were noticeably different, but the size and cultural influence was very close. There was large circular driveway that was lined with a variety of plants. The colors and angles of the house were all soft and high in tone.

A number of cars where already parked out front...most of them either very nice or very eccentric. They were obviously cars of people who had money. There was the sound of music coming out from the open front door. The atmosphere seemed casual. The afternoon was setting behind the house and the air was warm and still. It seemed a perfect night for a little get together. There was no snotty valet when each of the Viper's pulled up. They simply had to ascend the few marble stairs and through the open door to get in. Bill had arrived early and was mingling around cheerfully. There was about fifteen or so people floating around that were not members of the Deadly Viper Association Squad. They all certainly seemed to be well off, but most were wearing jeans and more casual attire. The inside decor of the house was in a very similar fashion to the outside. A strong Southwest influence was everywhere, even more so than in Bill's place. Everything was tiled in adobe, painted in tans, creams or light turquoises. It was very stylish, but again...still causal. American Indian artwork hung on the walls, ranging from paintings, to arrowheads, to masks, spears, garments, beadwork and musical instruments. There was an upstairs as well as a basement leading off from the main floor. In the back there was a small sized pool and a hot tub surrounded by a good sized garden area that was littered with lawn chairs and tables. Food was everywhere. It appeared some people had brought their own, besides what was being offered. Thus, there was a large variety to eat and drink.

Bill was standing in the living room talking with Peter. Peter was a man of medium height and build. He appeared to be in his early 40's...but had a very young face. His hair was tied back and went down to the small of his back. It was dark, almost black, but streaks of grey were prominent around his forehead and temples. He had a very genial and almost kind face and large brown eyes. He was wearing tennis shoes, jeans and a tucked in t-shirt with a metal Native American belt. By the way he and Bill were talking it was obvious they had known one another for quite sometime. Vernita had arrived sometime after Bill and Elle shortly after her. Both of them mingled around aimlessly amongst strangers who all seemed to know them, by giving them friendly waves and smiles. Both women were at a loss on that one and finally met up to talk to each other on the back patio. So far, Bill's tactics for the making of a pleasant evening were working.

Not far into the beginnings of the party Budd arrived and just after he parked his car Beatrix pulled in. Budd was wearing typical attire of jeans, white t-shirt, an open button-up t-shirt of a Hawaiian style with blues and greens, and a pair of sneakers. "Hey Bea," he greeted in an all out friendly tone.

"Hello Budd," she replied in an equally friendly tone. She was clad in jeans (a pair that didn't go in her 'work' pile), through the loops of her jeans she thread a silky light blue scarf in place of a belt, she wore the same black t-shirt she had on during the day, but she had a black leather jacket to go over it, and a pair of black heavy boots. She let her hair down and combed out nicely.

"You look nice tonight..." Budd began.

"Save it," she quickly interrupted. Budd shrugged and turned his head away. His expression turned up beat when he spotted a familiar Japanese/Chinese walking in their direction. "Hey O-Ren!" he called and waved her over. O-Ren gave them both a long look with those hard brown eyes as she stalked to the stairs. She gave them each a nod and ascended up the stairs.

Budd looked puzzled. "What was that about?"

"O-Ren is still pissed off at me and that is her way of playing nice."

"Better then nothin' I suppose. Come on," He ushered himself and the tall blonde inside, he was acting very gentleman like for some reason but that faltered as soon as they walked in and Budd found the wet bar. Beatrix was left on her own. She took a few steps into the small crowd of people and blue eyes peered about cautiously. Everyone was staring and smiling. She felt like she was in some fucked up psychotic thriller. She was turning uneasy but she quickly spotted Bill and made her way over to him. The tall blonde was almost there when she abruptly and rudely cut off.

"You must be Beatrix!"

"Pardon me?" Beatrix stared at the woman in front of her with a questionable eye. She wasn't that pretty, very skinny, a few inches shorter then Beatrix, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a button up shirt with a flower print of light blues. She had dark brown hair that was curly and waved down past her shoulders. Her skin was a pale ivory with small green eyes and a nose that was too small for her face.

"I've heard so much about you," she began in an alto-toned voice with a touch of spring flowers. "You know, I always wanted to meet you...I've heard what you can do...and I was like...woah..." Beatrix's features contorted into an evident frown. Obviously this woman had plans of speaking with her for a long time.

Bill had spotted Beatrix coming towards him, but apparently she'd been sidetracked. He turned back to Peter. Peter was a drug dealer. He didn't really look it, or act it....but he was. He dealt mainly in large shipments of marijuana up to the US. It was a very risky business, but he had done well for himself over the years. Every now and then he'd deal in acid or E...but no matter what decade, people always wanted pot and he was a large supplier of it. He was also Bill's personal supplier as well. Often Peter would run into a situation where he needed certain people ridded of, and thus he called up Bill. Peter was not a killer in the true form of one, and he knew Bill could be counted on for such tasks. The two men had had a very well established and successful friendship over the last fifteen years. "You've met my wife?" Peter inquired to Bill, his two silver and turquoise earrings glinting off the soft lighting as he turned his head to look at an approaching woman. Peter spoke in a very soft and mild voice and had a tendency to drop off the end of his sentences to a barely audible level.

"I believe I have, but it has been sometime," Bill replied with a cordial nod of his head. A shorter woman, with a head of long dark brown hair and blue eyes came up next to Peter. She was dressed in a long flowing skirt and an African patterned tank top. She was wearing glasses and had freckles. Pretty, but far from stunning. Not the type you'd expect to see married to a drug dealer. "Jasmine...," Peter laid a hand on his wife's shoulder, "This is Bill....you've met Bill haven't you?"

"Oh, of course," Jasmine smiled broadly, shaking Bill's hand, "Very nice to meet you.....again...Bill."

"And you as well," Bill replied with an equally broad grin. The three of them fell into easy conversation.

Meanwhile, Elle and Vernita had been conspiring on the back porch. Their huddle was aborted when they spotted Budd heading for the bar. "Honky piece of trash," Elle snorted, a cigarette of course jammed in-between two long fingers.

Vernita nodded, too distracted by the other party members to make much of a reply. "Elle....do you get the feeling that all these people here.....know about us....?"

"Yeah...." Elle exhaled a puff of smoke, "Sorta getting that vibe I suppose."

"It's really fucking annoying....." Vernita whispered. Just then two men stepped onto the patio and spotted them. "Oh shit..." Vernita turned away. "I think they're going to talk to us..." Elle looked momentarily freaked out. She hated social situations.

"Holy shit!" One man, a young-ish guy with blonde spiky hair and a silk lounge shirt said, "Your Elle right.....?" Elle just stared at the guy. "And....Vernita?"

"Yeah.....so.....," Vernita played it cool.

"Wow...we've heard so much about you," the man continued, undaunted by this less than warm welcome, "This is my buddy John.....oh...I'm Dan....." John was about the same age, very thin with red hair that was shaved down nearly to his head. "You guys kick ass!" He said with relish. Elle smirked, giving Vernita a look.

"And I tried so hard to get him to agree but he wouldn't! I swear I would have chopped his head off with a meat cleaver if I had one...Can you chop people's heads off with that?"

"No," Beatrix bluntly replied. The woman was still franticly talking to Beatrix. It had been a good five minutes of pointless chatter from only one side of the conversation. Beatrix kept a fake smile on her face and continued to throw fleeting glances in Bill's direction. He was distracted and she cursed him multiple times for that.

"Isn't that funny?" The woman stated between a giggle. Beatrix laughed lightly although this was also fake. "Would you excuse me," it was her time to cut in and cut out quickly. The tall blonde immediately walked in Bill's direction. She came up to him and nonchalantly slid her arm around his torso. She offered to the two people he was talking with another 'fake' smile, unaware of which they were and leaned into Bill. "Some savior you are," she hissed in a whisper. She was obviously irritated by her earlier encounter.

Bill smirked, "I never promised I'd be your savior Kiddo..." he whispered back, likewise wrapping his own arm around her torso. He turned back towards the couple facing them, "Beatrix, this is Peter...he owns this wonderful house and was nice enough to have this little party for us, and this is his lovely wife Jasmine. This is Beatrix Kiddo...my...." he paused.....girlfriend just didn't seem right, lover...hrm, too...much..., partner...too...PC...., "...my woman," he said with a decisive tone, giving Beatrix a grin.

"Oh! Very nice to meet you Beatrix," Jasmine replied, "Beatrix....like the Greek goddess....very appropriate." Jasmine seemed like a nice enough lady, a little New Age-ish, but friendly.

Peter nodded likewise, "A pleasure," he said in his soft voice and shook her hand as well. "I hope your enjoying the party so far. I'm afraid....many of the guests here are already aware of you and your associates. Call them....fans. You may have already encountered a few," he smiled gently at Beatrix's look of mild irritation. Bill just chuckled amused by the whole thing. Of course, he hadn't been stuck listening to Miss One Sided Conversation for over five minutes. "Oh," Bill reached over to the tall table they had been standing next to, "I got you a drink," he handed Beatrix a cup of coffee, "It's a little cold I'm afraid...."

Beatrix took the cup gratefully. Her blue eyes still sparked as half of her annoyance was directed at Bill but it was wavering off. She took a few gulps before bringing it down and back onto the table. The coffee helped clear her state of irritableness and was now mellowing down to something more pleasant. This had to be the host and hostess of the party and the supposed good friend of Bill's. She settled her eyes on Peter. "Fans, aye? Well, I'm flattered to even know I have fans." Actually she was disgusted by it. Well, not disgusted but the fact was terribly unsettling. She hated when people knew more about her then she about them. It had to do a lot about privacy and insecurity issues but she'd manage. Her attention came back to Peter's wife who she found to have a very nice aurora about her. The tall blonde's expression softened further. "What was that you were saying about a Greek Goddess?" Beatrix always thought her mom had been high on something when she was born. Of course she wasn't about to voice that. These people seemed to have very formal mannerisms and she didn't want to come off as 'immature'.

Jasmine looked surprised, "You didn't know.....oh yes!" She seemed excited to impart this bit of information on Beatrix, "Oh yes....she is a bringer of joy. Likewise...Dante's muse was Beatrix or was it Beatrice? Oh, I can't remember. Anyways, he loved her from afar and was tortured to his dying day by her beauty..." she smiled, "If you read any of his beautiful poetry.....Beatrix is a constant."

Bill was watching Beatrix with an affectionate look. He wasn't much of an academic himself, not in the classic sense at least, but it was an interesting bit of information nonetheless. And ironically appropriate for her. Peter looked at his wife with a soft smile. It was obvious to see he adored her. "My wife...." he chuckled, "Always....reliable to have a bit of questionably correct information on just about everything."

Meanwhile, far less high brow discussions were taking part in the house.

"Fuck no!" Vernita crossed her arms, "Go for it Elle, but count me out."

"Come on Vernita," Dan pulled on her arm, "Peter's got the best weed in Mexico....your going to be missing out. And we really want to hang out with you."

"No thanks....Dan," she gave him a wide sarcastic smile, "I've done enough of that shit in my life to know that the moment I'm fried one of is going to try to grab my tits."

"No way...." John shook his head, "We're not like that...seriously Vern. We just want to hang."

Vern? "I don't want to........hang..."

Elle snorted, "Suit yourself.....Vern...your just being a pussy..."

"Fuck off Elle!"

Elle laughed, "Come on boys...let's go get ripped...." The three of them headed into the house and into the basement, where apparently the more illegal of activates were going on. Vernita scowled, wishing, for the first time in quite awhile, that she could talk to Beatrix....like they used to. Budd had gone down to join Elle and the boys to try some of the weed. He was finding the whole adoring fan thing very entertaining and he was getting used to it. O-Ren found it enjoyable as well but she had put herself in an intellectual conversation with a fellow man of 'Yakuza-backgrounds' instead of getting off on an illegal drug.

"Do I torture you, Bill," Beatrix asked in a light but overly dramatic ounce of tease. She found the fact that she was supposedly named after a goddess, which she wasn't, very interesting. Her mom had been high but it was still cool.

"Greatly," Bill replied in an equally dramatic tone, his face close to hers, "I can't remember which level of Hell your supposed to show up in...." a wicked grin, "...but that's where I'm stuck at." Fuck, he hadn't read Dante's "Inferno" in ages....but he remembered that much. He raised his eyebrow, looking to the others, "If I remember correctly...the lowest level of Hell is reserved for betrayers." A small smirk. Jasmine nodded emphatically, obviously very excited to be discussing such intellectual matters with others, "It is occupied by Judas...the worst betrayer of them all."

"Hrm..." Bill replied, falling silent on the subject. "I think I'm going to get myself a drink...." he gave Peter and Jasmine a polite little nod, "Join me Kiddo..." It wasn't that he didn't enjoy their company, in fact they were quite refreshing compared to most of the assholes he had to deal with, but he wanted to talk to Beatrix alone for a bit. He'd have more time to talk to Peter later. They took a slow meandering stroll around the house, his arm encircled through hers, "I think this was a good idea," Bill said softly, a drink now in his hand. "You did catch my little message on the back of the invitation card?" He gave Beatrix a sidelong glance. "I'm really serious about this.....for once, it would be nice to have an outing where it doesn't all go to hell," he paused, stopping his steps and turned to look at her, "Are we on the same level here?" He wasn't trying to threaten her, it was simply that Beatrix...right now, was the center of all this hostility. If he could make her more....aware of how much he meant this, and then maybe...just maybe, there was some hope of peace.

Beatrix stared at him. She knew he hadn't meant that to be threatening but she couldn't help but accept it was such. She was well aware that he didn't want anything to fuck up this 'celebration' party and neither did she. It'd be nice to have an enjoyable evening with everyone present. She didn't need him to reinstate it. She could read. Her lips came into a taut line across her angelic facial features and blue eyes flashed. "Of course we are," she replied a tad dryly. She took a step away from him. "I'll be wandering around...behaving," she coarsely added before turning and walking away.

Bill threw his hands up in the air as he watched Beatrix's back disappear onto the back patio. Well...fuck, now she was mad at him. Great. He had just been trying to make his expectations a little...more clear to her. He turned away with a scowl, goddamn women. On a whim, he bypassed the kitchen and opened the basement door...which upon opening, emitted a giant cloud of smoke. Taking a long moment to inhale as much of that smoke as possible, Bill descended the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

It didn't take the irked blonde long to get to the back patio and spy a familiar face. Vernita was standing out on the patio alone, silhouetted by numerous hanging lamps. Beatrix approached her cautiously, her earlier expression masked over with something more placid. "Enjoying yourself?" She asked casually.

Vernita turned to look at Beatrix. This was unexpected. Her eyes flashed momentarily, and her lips pressed tightly together. "Not especially," she hissed, quickly turning away to look out into the garden. A few people were out there socializing. "Elle ditched me for two geeks. So, I-" she stopped short, realizing that she was confiding in Beatrix....like she used to do. But, she couldn't do that now....this was not the Beatrix that had been her friend. She folded her arms and pivoted away from the tall blonde. "Yeah.....well....it doesn't fucking matter now does it?"

Beatrix stood there with a now void façade but blue eyes were sparkling with a mixture of emotions. She wanted desperately to gain back what she had lost and she knew the only way to do that would be to go back to the way things were before she fucked Bill. It was a catch twenty-two and she wasn't about to break out of what she had. She was really happy with Bill...well...when they weren't irked with one another she was. They had worked so hard and she wasn't going to toss it away for a 'friendship'. Her slender brows narrowed on her darker skinned associate. "Apparently not." She paused. "Since you don't want my company I'll go back inside and leave you here to drown in...self-remorse."

Vernita's head snapped around, her long braids flying out in the process, "Self remorse?" She snorted, "Whatever bitch." Her eyes took on a deadly facade, "Your the one who should be drowning in self pity.....I'm not the one who's stooped to a pathetically low level so I could be officially deemed the "favorite".....", she shook her head in pity, "No Bea, I feel sorry for you......so you can just save your fucking breath for somebody else......." She let that sink in. "And no....I don't want your fucking company." But there was a lack of conviction in her tone. "Not anymore...." A pause, "Why don't you go find Bill....I'm sure he'd much prefer your company .If you stick here with me...I'm not gunna fuck you."

Beatrix found that so pathetic and uncalled for she couldn't help a light chuckle that passed from her lips before coming into a straight line. She shook her head from side to side in an equal amount of pity. She knew that if she even tried to explain to Vernita that she hadn't fucked Bill to gain a higher status, she wouldn't listen. The bitch had it set in her mind that Beatrix was the greedy one. "You'll never understand," she said in a low, icy tone. Vernita was pressing Bea's buttons but she promised to behave. That promise was beginning to falter. "You're too fucking absorbed on yourself and what happens to you and how it affects you to give a fuck about me. You're just like the rest of them and for a while there, I thought you weren't."

Beatrix had hit a little to close to home on that one, and Vernita knew it. "Fuck you," Vernita turned back to Beatrix with a sassy tilt of her head, "Ya know what.." she raised a finger at the tall blonde, "You don't know a fucking thing about me...so how dare you call me self absorbed. I'm not like the others....so fuck you for even thinking that." She took a threatening step towards her former friend, "At least.....I don't presume to hold myself on some....fucking righteous little throne. You think all that shit Bill tells you....about you being different than us...his best assassin...and whatever bullshit he's whispered to you...that any of that is true? Please," a sneer, "Your really clueless Bea....you always have been and you always will be. Bill is just as egomaniacal as he's always been." A smirk, "You'll never understand," she mocked Beatrix's voice, "Again...fuck you bitch..." she flipped her the finger. "Don't even give me that shit." Another step forward, "You wanna start some shit with me? Because you sure as fuck seem like you do..."

It was no mystery why Vernita had gotten into a ridiculous amount of fights in high school.

Beatrix knew and Vernita knew that they had both stated a moderate amount of truths and lies. She tried to behave, she truly did, but what Vernita said pushed buttons upon buttons. It wasn't just what she said but the context and how she said it. They had been 'friends' and now they were throwing things at one another as true enemies. The tall blonde had gone void, emotionless, and blue eyes stared at her with flourishing detestation. Vernita wouldn't understand. That was what annoyed the fuck out of Beatrix. But she had to let it go. Fine, let her believe what she wanted but she wasn't about to walk away from just being 'challenged' like that. Instead Black Mamba curled up a fist at her side and without much warning struck Vernita right in the nose.

Vernita had not expected that. Sure, she'd called Bea on a fight....but holy fuck....she's actually gone through with it. Vernita wheeled backwards, a hand coming up to cover her quickly bleeding nose. After a moment, she swiped the hand away...her face partially covered in blood. She smiled broadly and with a frightening look of bloodthirst in her eyes. This was not Vernita the former friend looking at Beatrix now, this was Vernita the killer. She grin turned wicked. "Good shot......" With that she stopped and sucker punched Beatrix right in the gut, as the tall blonde bent over, Vernita grabbed her by the head and kneed her right in the chest....knowing full well the last place that Beatrix had been injured...as if that didn't hurt enough on it's own. Even as Beatrix was recovering from this, Vernita shoved her into a table, which had a good amount of food on top of it. The impact sent everything crashing onto the patio tiles.

"Holy shit! Two of the Vipers are fighting!" somebody yelled from inside the house. There was some excited murmuring and the scraping of furniture legs as people scrambled to see some of the action.

"GET UP BITCH!" Vernita yelled at Beatrix, her bloodstained face contorted with an overflow of pent up anger.

Beatrix didn't need to be instructed again. She came up into a sitting position, diminishing the pain that was surging from her chest, her façade took on that same killer glint, and she jumped up to her feet. She had no intention on killing Vernita, maybe just hurt her...a lot. Maybe then she'd get a fucking clue. Back on her own two feet she came at Vernita again with a balled up fist. This time Vernita saw it coming and ducked but as she ducked Beatrix brought up a long leg and kneed her in gut. As the woman took a familiar stance of doubling over, side turned to Beatrix, the tall blonde took a pivot around and jumped Vernita. Both Vipers hit the ground hard but that didn't stop Black Mamba as she grabbed up a clump of Vernita's braids, pulled back, and then thrust her head down to hit the harsh cobblestone.

Vernita let out a fairly loud yell, as her face was smashed into the patio tiling. She could already feel a good amount of blood flowing across her face. It fucking hurt...but pain she could deal with. But, like hell she was going to let Beatrix do that again, which more than likely she would attempt to do. Throwing a sharp elbow back, she managed to nail Beatrix right in the cleavage. To no surprise, the blonde instantly let her grip loosen on Vernita's hair. Throwing her body at an odd angle she pinned down the other woman, hands wrapping around her slim neck. She pressed Beatrix's legs down tight with her own knees.

At this point a good sized crowd of people had gathered at the patio doors, watching with a mixture of fascination and horror as the two assassins duked it out. "This is way hot!" A short guy in running shorts and knee high black socks breathed to his equally dorky looking friend. "Vernita's gunna win," a middle aged woman said to another woman, standing next to her incidentally was the same annoying woman that Beatrix had been stuck listening to less than an hour ago., "Black chicks can fight better...." she ignorantly whispered. Unaware of any of this idiotic chatter, Vernita continued to try to choke out Beatrix....but Bea was a master of choke holds and she quickly kicked out of the hold, throwing Vernita onto her back. As Beatrix got up to gain the upper hand, Vernita kicked out a powerful leg and caught the blonde right across the face. So far, Bill nor the rest of the Viper's had noticed this downhill turn of events.

Beatrix stumbled and tripped back into the table she had already once smashed into. This time she'd use this fall to her advantage. As Vernita came at her the blonde quickly snatched up a handful of party dip and ruthlessly threw it in her face. This left Vernita at a temporary blinded state giving Bea back the upper hand. She swung a long leg around and into the side of Vernita's leg causing her to fall face first onto the ground. Black Mamba immediately crawled back over and onto her back. An arm wrapped around taut against her neck. It was time Copperhead learned what a real chock hold was and Black Mamba wasn't going to hold back on it, well, not until she started to turn blue, then she'd let go.

"And it was...Oh, I wonder what the big crowd is for," stated the older gentleman O-Ren Ishii had been chattering the night away with. The half breed turned her head to the large crowd outside on the patio. Her thin brows furrowed and she followed her companion outside.

"That was a cheap shot, throwing that food in her face," O-Ren heard someone beside her quarrel with someone else. "It worked didn't it?" Argued someone else. O-Ren grew more curious and pushed her way through to the front. What she saw made her jaw drop and eyes go wide across her freckled face. Cottonmouth didn't even think of attempting to break apart the two snakes and quickly dashed off back into the house. She last recalled seeing Budd and Elle vanish into the basement and that was her first stop. She swung open the door and her eyes squinted at the amount of smoke that came pouring out. Undaunted, she yelled to the downstairs occupants, "Budd!"

"What?" A graveled voice yelled from within.

"Where the fuck is your brother?"

"Down here."

"Tell him to get his ass up here." Budd was reclining on the couch between two lovely ladies. Bill was across from him on a chair and Elle was to his right. He gave Bill an uneasy expression and stated, "You heard the lady."

Vernita struggled against Beatrix's iron clad choke hold. She desperately wanted to wipe the party dip out of her eyes, but her hands were pinned behind her back, pushed up against Beatrix's torso. She kicked viciously, managing only to get a good shot in on the other woman's shin. "Augaghfuck," she spat out a mouthful of party dip in an attempt to curse the bitch. She could feel the blood flow to her head quickly beginning to decrease and a feeling of lightheadedness took over.

"What?" Bill hissed.....a good amount of smoke escaping with the word. He'd barely heard O-Ren over the loud buzz of music and voices. He'd heard Budd clearly enough though, and whatever it was sounded pressing. "Goddamn," he grumbled, picking himself up, giving Elle a brief glance and then somewhat disoriented, made his way up out of the basement, a huge joint still in his hand. He was fucked up...more than he'd wanted to be. And, for some reason...when Bill was stoned, he was even more of an asshole. A huge crowd of onlookers blocked his vision as well as his path to the patio. Sticking the joint between his angrily clenched teeth, he began violently shoving people out of his way. Finally, he managed to break free of the crowd to witness the situation.

There...in the middle of the glass and food splattered patio was Beatrix straddling Vernita's back. The blonde had Vernita's head in a yanking choke hold. Both of their faces were equally bloody and Vernita had an added dose of party dip smeared across her eyes. Beatrix's forearm was taunt across the other woman's neck. The situation was fairly clear. Bill froze momentarily, the joint nearly falling from his mouth. "I should have fucking known," he grumbled and took a couple of room spinning steps towards the two women.

The crowd grew more apprehensive at this. Bill's renowned ferociousness was well known in this crowd. There was a dangerous glint in his slightly fuzzy gaze.

Grabbing Beatrix by the collar of her coat, he yanked her off of Vernita. Leaving the other woman down momentarily, he spun on Beatrix and with a tiger-like intimidating prowl he forced her backwards a few steps. Grabbing her once again by the collar, he pulled her towards him briefly and then shoved her backwards right into the pool which began right behind where her heels had been a second ago. Spinning back, Bill yanked up Vernita and this time literally pulled her along with him and threw her bodily into the pool to follow Beatrix into the luke warm water. There were a number of chuckles from the crowd, but also a murmur of disappointment at this sudden end to the brawl. "Cool off ladies...." Bill grated with an irate glare leveled at the two women.

Beatrix broke to the surface with a gasp for air. She had been so irate and concentrating so hard that she almost hadn't realized what had happened until her body was submerged in water. She gave a side glance to Vernita whom looked equally as confused and irritated. Her hard gaze then settled on the man who put them in the water in the first place. She was angry with him before but now she was infuriated. "What the fuck, Bill?" She grated between clenched teeth as she raked a hand over her face to move misplaced strands of blonde locks to the side.

"That was funny," Budd stated as he had followed Bill from the basement to catch a glance at what was so important. He was a tad too stoned to realize the death glares he was receiving from either woman.

The blonde scowled and began to trudge out of the pool.

"Get out!" Bill yelled, not even bothering to reply to Beatrix's question. He appeared to be equally infuriated.

Vernita looked like a pissy cat, her braids plastered to her face. At least that had gotten rid of that shitty party dip. With a scowl at both Beatrix and Bill, she began to pull herself out of the pool, on the opposite side of Beatrix of course. Her clothing was sticking to her and the added water made it difficult, but she finally managed to stand up. She stood there, hugging herself, ignoring the amused crowd and watching the droplets of water from her clothing splatter on the tiles.

Elle at this point, had gotten through the crowd. Like hell she was going to miss this. Now she was laughing historically. She was stoned off her ass, and everything was funny...especially this. "They're both drenched!" She giggled in that high pitched tone. "Wet bitches!" She put a hand on Budd's shoulder, doubling over in laughter and then she laid her head on his arm, still giggling.

Bill stood there, furious glare split between Vernita and Beatrix. He took one last long spiteful drag of his joint and then snubbed it between his fingers. The crowd began to disperse a little, seeing now that the fun was over with. There were a few stranglers hanging around in hopes Bill would do something nasty. But, at the moment, he seemed frozen in anger, unable to anything but seethe and emit a murderous aura. "What......the........FUCK...just happened?" He thundered, in that rare shouting tone of voice.

Vernita stood silently, eyes still averted to the dripping water from her hair.

Beatrix stood there in the same fashion as Vernita. She was drenched to the bone, clothes clinging to her figure like saran wrap, and wet darker blonde strands settled against her irate features. A few trickles of blood smeared into her wet skin and arms crossed over her chest. She held the posture of a stone statute. Bill was furious, that was obvious, and perhaps more so due to the fact he was getting high. That fact alone irked his 'lover.' Her feet shifted and she remained silent. A quick glance around, a few bystanders stood behind Bill, and the remainder of DiVAS had every intention on remaining. Icy cool blue eyes darted to Vernita. The bitch wasn't going to open her mouth. Vernita wasn't going to be the one to get shot down first. If Vernita could hold her tongue then so could Beatrix.

Bill raised an eyebrow. Their very deliberate silence just proved to make him angrier. He was a killer, and a killer was hardwired to see a target. Even in his hazy state, he was prone to this. Beatrix was standing closer...Vernita on the opposite side of the pool. Bill's dark glare landed on Beatrix. He zeroed in on his target and advanced right up to her chest to chest. There was no missing the very dangerous field of electricity around him, not to mention an almost visible cloud of pot smoke. There was nothing intimate or caring about this gesture, it was pure intimidation. He locked eyes with her, his pupils so dilated with drugs that his eyes looked almost entirely black. His jaw was set in a furious expression of haughtiness and anger. "I asked you a question," he said in a low whisper, "When I ask...a question...it requires an answer. I think...of all people...you should be more than aware of this...Kiddo..." But Beatrix simply stared back him with an equal amount of fiery anger and determination. Bill stared her down for a few seconds longer and then pulled away. With a sneer, he stalked around to the other side of the pool, like a true predator seeking out the weaker target. He grabbed Vernita roughly by the arm and walked her back around to the other side. "A reply...Vernita...." he hissed at her, pulling her next to Beatrix. Vernita was noticeably cringing. "Did I, or did I not ask you a question?" He continued in that deadly tone. Vernita nodded silently, her braids still dripping water down her bloodied face.

"What did I ask you?" Bill was now in Vernita's face.

"You asked..." her voice was barely audible, "......what....just...happened..."

"I asked....What the fuck just happened..." Vernita nodded again. "So..." Bill leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching Vernita's, "...what the fuck just happened?"

Vernita licked her lips, trying to get away from his close proximity...but one again, the edge of the pool was right behind her heels. Bill had planned their current placement perfectly. "Bea....Beatrix....talked shit....said she wanted to fight me......we...fought..."

Beatrix jerked her head to turn to Vernita, a few droplets of water spraying into the air as wet locks shifted. "Bullshit," she sneered between a firm set jaw. "I tried to be genial and she threw it back." Beatrix was never one for playing 'she/he did' game but this instance called for it. "She asked me first...so, I complied." Another very stupid answer but the whole situation was even stupider. The blonde kept her chilling gaze on Vernita as she didn't want to catch Bill's. She planned to keep her anger directed at only one snake, for now.

Verntia sneered, some of her timidness melting away. "See what I mean Bill.....she's always been a lair....she always will be. She can't tell the truth to you....even now...she never will." Bill remained silent. Yes, he was angry...yes he was fucked up...but he had far enough sense to know not to believe such catty accusations so quickly. And, despite it all...he was not in love with Vernita. He was not a fair or unbiased judge in this situation. Vernita seemed to have picked up Bill's expression, "Fuck....it doesn't even matter what I say...or what happened, I'm the one who's going to get the blame ....Jesus...." she looked away, nostrils flaring. "Ya know Bea....if you were ever my friend to begin with, I just might be a little sad to see you make such a fucking fool out of yourself. But.....as it turns out," she turned her dark eyes on the blonde, "...you never really were. So.....it doesn't mean a fucking thing to me. I hope you get every fucking thing you deserve....because....Bea.....you've got it comn'..."

"I've heard enough," Bill whispered and with a strong shove, pushed Vernita back into the pool. Without even a look at Beatrix, he turned and stalked back into the house. "Show's over...." he pushed through the few remaining people, disappearing into the crowd.

The tall wet blonde stood there in complete and utter confusion. She honestly wasn't sure how to take that. Sure she had just been shot down but her anger was masking the full impact. Well, Beatrix could let it sink in plenty at home once she was out of her wet clothes. She placed a foot forward but when she moved to raise the other it went taut, like a wildcat trapped just walking into a snare trap she fell. Beatrix was quick thinking enough to shift her body so she landed on her side instead of an arm. Her pretty blonde head hit the cobble stone hard enough to make up for what her body missed out on. The impact was almost enough to cause a concussion but instead it delivered a large gash. Beatrix gingerly rolled onto her back and picked her swaying head up to view her snatcher; Vernita. The bitch had grabbed her leg from the water.

Budd was still standing nearby with Elle hanging on his shoulder. He nudged her with an elbow as he had caught sight of what happened, though he was a few seconds delayed. "Suppose we should go tell Bill?"

Elle giggled, her head nestled on his shoulder. For some reason she was clinging all over Budd, and she was too stoned to even realize what she was doing. "Nah...I wanna see some more blood.....he'll just ruin it....."


	11. Copperhead vs The Black Mamba Round 2

Vernita was staring at Beatrix with a truly murderous glare. It was rather creepy actually...with just her head and shoulders submerged, her arm attached to Beatrix's ankle, the whites of her eyes shimmering off the underwater lights, small murky trails of blood swirling around her. There were no sounds....save for the soft swish of the water and the dim hum of the party in the background. The two women locked eyes for a few long seconds. Vernita's Cheshire Cat grin widened even further. All those years of friendship were now so easily dashed away by petty anger. Vernita had thrown that all away like useless foul trash.

Bill had gone into the house to make amends to Peter and his wife for the mess out in back. When he found them, they were both in the kitchen standing in front of the window above the kitchen sink. They were watching intently out onto the scene taking place by the pool. Following their gazes, Bill quickly spotted who and what they were watching. With a series of vicious swear words he turned and began picking his way back through the crowded house.

Vernita was still staring at Beatrix with that chilling look, her hand still clamped onto the blonde's ankle. "If I had my knife....right now..." she began in an eerie whisper, "I'd gut ya right here...."

Beatrix was officially creeped-out. She had never seen Vernita hold that kind of glint in her eyes nor her current facial expression. She was far from scared but she was a tad uneasy. The blonde began kicking and thrashing her leg to try and remove Vernita's shell-clamp-grip. Her movements were similar to a fish flapping out of water trying to flee from the predator.

This movement wasn't doing her any good so she went for another tactic. She pulled herself into a sitting position, leaned forward, and dug her nails deep into Vernita's hands. Her face was hard set, water droplets were still streaming, dripping down and now a mixture of blood was trailing down her temple. Blue eyes were hazed over with lasting confusion and evident anger. Bill said it was over, done, they were supposed to stop. But Vernita wanted to finish it. What she wanted to finish exactly, Beatrix wasn't sure but she couldn't allow it. The nail tactic wasn't working to the extent Beatrix was hoping for. Blue eyes darted around her surrounding area. She spotted her weapon and snatched it up. Without a spark of remorse she brought down a heavy rock on top of Vernita's clenched hands.

That worked, at least momentarily. Vernita made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a yelp. Her hand retracted to her chest for a brief moment. The open scrapes added more blood to the water as she clenched her hands together. Despite having a crushed hand, with lighting quick speed she clamped the bloody appendage to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out with ferocious tenacity. Her predatory look was focused right on Beatrix. Every ounce of humanity was absent in her face. It was the look of a killer. Bill was a professional at this look but for some reason on Vernita, at this moment, it was far creepier. She crawled towards Beatrix, a bloody hand picking up another smaller sized rock that had been sitting with the group of the others. If she couldn't gut the bitch, then she would bludgeon her with a fucking rock. She was not playing around....in her mind, she could easily kill Beatrix right at this moment. Something had switched over in Vernita and.whatever it was....it was far from pleasant.

Elle picked her head off of Budd's shoulder, "She's gunna kill her....." she said in a lazy voice. Elle knew Vernita's look. Bill had yet to show up.

Budd blinked and tilted his head down to Elle. He also had yet to realize how long she had been hanging on him but like Elle he didn't give a fuck. "Ya think?" He drawled lightly. When Elle nodded Budd let out a low whistle turning his head back to the action.

"Shit," Beatrix stated as she rolled out of the way of an oncoming rock. She didn't need to over hear Elle and Budd to finally catch on to what finishing this really meant. The tall blonde knew Vernita didn't 'like' her at the moment but she never thought she wanted to kill her. Elle was usually the only one that had pure sadistic tendencies against the tall blonde. This was scaring the shit out of Beatrix.

She rolled onto her stomach and came on to her hands and knees in an effort to crawl away. She didn't make it far when Vernita jumped onto her back and her body caved in from the weight. The tall blonde warrior let out a yell of pain as she felt the harsh thud of a rock against the back of her skull. She thrashed her body up with a fierce amount of body strength, sending Vernita onto the ground beside her. Beatrix took no hesitations but crawled over to Vernita, came on top of her, legs on both sides and her hands pinned Vernita's wrists to the ground. The droplets of blood from the blonde's bloody temple slipped down her face giving Beatrix her own appearance of being creepy. Someone had to be logical in this illogical event. "Goddamit Vernita!" She breathed still rather flustered.

Vernita stared back up at Beatrix with those emotionless eyes. It was at moments like this that one truly realized what separated people who were not killers and those who were not. Much of the time it was hard to tell, but then...there were times when the true sickness showed itself. Some people, like Bill were so good at treading that line that the two sides were often one grey line. He was aware of this dichotomy and could make scarily seamless changes from one to the other. It took a lifetime to perfect the real art of a true sociopath. But Vernita had not perfected the art to that point. She was snapped into some sick corner of her mind, the corner that allowed her to do what she did for a living, and she was having difficulty snapping out of it. Deep down, she most likely did not really want to kill Beatrix, although...she was certainly working towards it. Vernita continued to stare up at the bloodied blonde. It seemed like she hadn't even blinked in minutes. She appeared as if she was going to say something, but instead she just spat viciously into Beatrix's face. This murderous self hypnosis required her full concentration and it was difficult to talk and keep at it with real effectiveness.

She fought against Beatrix's grip, but the blonde had the dominant position and thus had gravity going for her. Both women were equally strong and skilled at physical brawling.....but at the moment, Beatrix had the upper hand. The moment she lost it though, Vernita was going to end this for good. When it came down to the finer arts of what made a killer a killer Beatrix was almost identical to Bill. One could say he 'molded' her to take in the same mannerisms that he had when it came to killing. Her tracks were rickety but most of the time she could effortlessly switch tracks without flaw. Bill had been one of her teachers and what the teacher taught usually rubbed off on the student. Bill taught her to view killing as an art and only those that truly understood the deeper prospects of it could perfect it. In Bill's eye Beatrix hadn't perfected it. She wasn't 'him'. But to Beatrix she was sure as hell almost perfect, a few years and she'd be there. It was a concept of different morals. But, they've had this spat before. Beatrix wasn't Bill. If she was she wouldn't do certain things that could have a life time of consequences.

She shifted her weight on Vernita trying to keep her upper hand as she was vulgarly spat on. She didn't grimace but pinned her down more harshly. She wanted to speak but she couldn't find the words. Her hopes were now on the simple ideal that Vernita would just stop. Verntia had absolutely no intention of stopping. As long as she was stuck in this killer frame of mind, she was on a one way street to murder.

But she would stop and Bill had just shown up to assure that. It was instantly revealed why he had taken some time in coming back. In his right hand was a small 22 cal pistol. This time the small remaining crowd was more than willing to part for him. Elle raised her eyebrow as she watched him brush past. "Uh oh.....Billy the Kid has just entered the saloon....." she giggled against Budd's shirt.

"I don't think you heard me quite clearly enough Vernita," Bill said calmly and quietly as he approached at a swift pace, "I said...enough....and I mean...enough...." He yanked Beatrix off of Vernita with his unarmed hand and pointed the gun right at Vernita's face. Bill did not fuck around. He'd already been pushed far enough, and this shit was going to end right now. He pulled the hammer back on the pistol, staring down the barrel at an expert arm's distance. Vernita stared back at him, her eyes stuck on the hole of the barrel. "Enough.....Vernita....are we clear on that matter now?"

Vernita blinked, for seemingly the first time since her and Beatrix had thrown their first punches. She took a few shallow breaths, life and fear coming back into her eyes. "Yes...Bill.....I'm sorry....."

"Not as sorry as you'll be if you don't fucking stop this."

A look of very human panic crossed her face, "I'm done......I swear it....Bill....I...." She pushed herself up on her elbows. "It got out of hand.....I...." Bill glared down at her a moment longer, a deep frown on his face. Then slowly he raised his arm above his head and fired the gun into the air. There was nothing like a gunshot at close proximity...even a small 22cal. It was loud and jarring as hell.

Vernita flinched a little and lowered her eyes to the pavement. She seemed to cave in....a mere shaky human being, compared to the animalistic killer she was moments ago.

Elle was staring at this tableau with fascination, her hand grasped onto Budd's shoulder with sharp fingernails.

Beatrix stood off to the side with arms protectively hugging herself. Her features were taut, void, and her lips formed a thin line. Her breathing was coming in harsh wisps through her flared nostrils. When Bill set off the gun she noticeably cringed and recoiled a step. That was fucking scary.

Budd didn't flinch at the gunshot. It was either because he had witnessed this behavior from Bill before or he was too stoned to care. What he did care about was Elle's finger tips in his shoulder. He almost gingerly put a hand to Elle's back and turned her around. "Come on sweet cheeks. I'll drive ya home. Don't want ya drivin' into a tree," he muttered as he lead her off the patio and back inside. He knew it was over and there was nothing else to stick around for.

Bill slowly lowered the smoking pistol, letting his arm fall to his side. His expression was difficult to read....he was back in that "closed book" mode again. This was not the first time, nor most likely did the last time he'd threaten his employees with force and/or a gun. When dealing with killers, it was often necessary to take drastic measures to get them to listen and Bill was just the man to take those drastic measures.

Vernita slowly picked herself up, eyes completely averted from Beatrix and Bill. She attempted to dust herself off, which was rather silly since she was dripping wet with water and blood. She looked a little ashamed....but there was still a good amount of hostility emitting from her. Bill turned away with a piercing glare at both of them. He switched the pistol to his left hand, which he was equally proficient in, turned back towards the house and stalked inside.

Vernita stood there, a little shakily and then pulled her sopping wet braids out of her face. She took a few steps forward, but paused when she and Beatrix were standing side by side...facing opposite directions. She turned and looked at her former friend, "You may have it all going for you now Bea...." she whispered, afraid to still be heard, even if Bill was now inside the house, "But....I assure you...I'm going to get out of this life. I'm going to have that normal life that we always talked about...the kids….the lunches...the mini van and soccer practice. You..." her eyes narrowed, "...your stuck....you always will be...even if you try not to be. Your with Bill now….and you'll always be with Bill......no matter where he is...alive or dead. You're too corrupted to go back now." She raised her brows, "You're doomed to this life. I'll remember you when I have what you wanted." With that, she pressed her lips together and swaggered into the house...clothing sticking to her awkwardly.

Beatrix sucked in a breath as if she had just been hit in the gut. There were some things that really touched home for Beatrix and the idea of being normal was a large factor. She knew subconsciously that Vernita was accurate in what she said. She had almost wished that Vernita could have been right when thinking Beatrix was with Bill for the attention but instead she had to be right about being stuck. Even so Beatrix would always deny it. She was a master when it came to denying the truth. But at that moment it was beginning to register. She couldn't handle it as she usually had difficulty handling 'truthful' situations and made a quick sprint back into the house and out the door. She was wet, cold, irate, and morally wounded. The only cure for this was to go home or in lamer terms; runaway from the situation.

And that was pretty much the end of that party. Bill made amends with Peter and his wife about the back porch. No doubt, he paid them more than what was even close to being necessary. But, in Bill's mind he felt it was important. Peter and Jasmine didn't seem all that rattled about the whole thing. In fact, they were rather glad for the...entertainment. Their guests would doubtfully never forget that party.

After that, Bill went home...alone. He stayed up too late, sitting at his desk staring at a stack of papers in front of him until he felt sober enough to try to sleep.

Elle let Budd drive her home. Later on that night when the pot had worn off, she had a major freak out when she remembered half of what she had done. She swore that if she even came close to sleeping with him she was going to slit her wrists right then and there and let herself die. In the meantime, she had the munchies from hell and ate just about everything her refrigerator had to offer.

Vernita left right after Beatrix. She received a phone call the next day from Bill, informing her that she was on suspension without pay for an indeterminate amount of time. She'd screened the call and listened to it on her answering machine with a scowl.

O-Ren remained rather oblivious to what had transpired that night. After she informed Bill of Beatrix and Vernita's first round of trying to kill one another she went off to further chat with her Yakuza friend. After the party she went home and the next day Bill sent her off on assignment. O-Ren Ishii was 'private' in that manner.

Bill left Beatrix alone for a few days. He knew how she operated. She needed time to herself, in her little apartment, to recover. After three days, he drove over and genially rang her doorbell. He waited with hands in his trouser pockets until she opened the door. "May I come in?" he said quietly.

Beatrix was leaning against the half way open door. She was clad in a pair of gray sweat pants, white tank top, locks of blonde hair were pulled back into a French braid, a hair style she wore when she didn't want to deal with it for the next three days. She had completely secluded herself to her small apartment. Some people when they were 'depressed' binged on food or anything comforting. Beatrix binged on training. And during this particular binge she worked on maneuvers that were increasingly difficult leaving her physically worn down. Hard blue eyes stared at him before she replied tartly, "It depends on why you want to come in."

There were a number of very sarcastic responses to that, and if they had been on better terms at the moment Bill might have replied in such a manner. But, at the moment being direct was much more appropriate. "I want to come in so I can talk to you about what happened the other night. Vernita's on suspension. I want her away for awhile." A pause, "I'm not here to interrogate you Kiddo.....I just want to hear what happened after you've had some time to cool off." He was being completely calm and straightforward. He had not wanted any of this to happen. He was happy with how things were going. But he also knew better than to come crawling back with kind words and sappy promises. He didn't regret doing anything he did and he simply wanted truths so he could better understand what had happened. He raised his eyebrows. "Just a talk..."

The tall blonde stared at him for a moment longer as if taking in his words and weighing the pros and cons. Coming to a decision she silently and methodically stepped aside and let him enter. She closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room where they each took separate seats. Her regression was evident by her body language and all out unhappy aurora. During her three day cool down she did a tremendous amount of thinking. She didn't think about how she may have fucked up and was doomed from here on in and she didn't think about regretting anything. But no matter what she thought, her answers always brought her right back to where she started. This only brought confusion and irritation. She settled back in the plush recliner and made herself comfortable. She waited for Bill to do the same before she spoke up, "You saw what happened," a pause. "Put two and two together. You're smart Bill."

Bill frowned, displeased with her small dose of sarcasm. "Well...generally when you put two and two together you get four." He leaned back into the recliner, "But....the other night...something went wrong with that addition. And I didn't even have to be all that smart to figure that one out." He let the metaphor drop, "I wasn't referring to the physical events Kiddo. One week it's Elle...the next it's O-Ren.....and now...Vernita," a harsh chuckle, "....your friend, Vernita...attempting to smash in your skull with a rock. Well now, what a funny fucked up world we live in." Goddamn, was that true. He watched her for a moment, that half smirk frozen on his face. He let the expression fall into a frown. "I can't have this sort of shit happen in my organization," he said seriously, brown eyes harsh and bright on the woman sitting across from him. "Something has to give.....and," he held up a ringed hand, pausing in thought, ".....I can't quite figure out what that is....." It always difficult to tell with Bill, when he was like this, if he was genuinely lost and seeking advice or if he was simply toying around with the object of concern.

Beatrix sat there watching and listening with a haughty expression. She knew even without the fucked up metaphors and added zingers what Bill was aiming at. Was he looking for advice and guidance from his lover? If he was he was fucking the wrong person. The disgruntled blonde simply shrugged her shoulders. "You've got me, Bill." Her arms shifted across her chest, her façade turning cooler. "It's your organization. You've dealt with this shit for years, you'll figure out a way to work around it or…get rid of it."

Bill raised his brows, taking all of that in rather placidly. After all, he'd expected no less from Beatrix. She was not one to eagerly give advice or wanted help. As much confidence as he had in her, she had in him. He supposed he'd find a way to deal, or he'd end it. "Hrm...well...I suppose your right...," he replied with a tilt of the head.

After a moment, he rested his elbow on the arm of the recliner, chin resting in his palm. "I think we should go away for awhile..." he murmured, gaze wandering aimlessly around Beatrix's small living room. His eyes returned to her quickly, "Not right now....you despise me too much right now," a smirk, ".....but in awhile perhaps. Somewhere far away.....away from..." he waved his other hand, "...all of this...bullshit." A pause for a few seconds, "Maybe it's time to move things again as well...." Every few years or so, Bill would generally pick up and move the whole organization. Of course these locales tended to center around the Southwest US. He'd been at his current place for over five years. It was getting well past that red zone once again. There had already been some run ins with the FBI lately and Bill was not a man to tempt the law more than he already did. At this point in his life, there was no option for getting caught....getting caught was sure death. And he sure as fuck was not going to die in some shitty federal prison somewhere. His look came back to rest on Beatrix after that little mental tangent. "Well....either way.....the rules are changing around here faster than I can rewrite them."

Beatrix listened to all of that with raised eyebrows and a sour-puss face. She vaguely remembered when she first came to the organization Bill was doing some redecorating on the hacienda seeing as they had recently relocated. She had never witnessed an actual relocation but she heard from Elle that it was 'fucking annoying'. Either way Beatrix didn't care much about it. What did spark her interest was his reference to just 'them' going away. She shifted in her seat and her fingers flexed on the arm of the chair. Blue eyes were rising up a few degrees but not by much. "You know," she began in a much calmer tone of voice. "My birthday is in a few weeks." Like Bill, Beatrix wasn't keen on the idea of getting older, not that she was getting that old but she focused more on the concept of spending such a day with someone 'special'. That made it worthwhile. But she wasn't expecting much of anything. Shit, for Bill's birthday Beatrix ended up getting stabbed numerous times. Hell of a way to celebrate a birthday. So, she really wasn't expecting anything. "Surprise me," she added quaintly.

Bill gave her a lopsided smile, chin still in hand. "I'm generally not one for the pleasant type of surprises. But....I'll see what I can come up with." Actually, he was loving this new bit of information. He had Beatrix's birthday circled on his calendar...he'd known it was coming up soon, but he hadn't realized how soon. And lord knew Bill was a spoiler. "Well.....I can count out showing up at your door dressed a little too flamboyantly for your tastes, and you're already done the birthday stab wounds thing….so that's out....hrm….not leaving me with many choices here." He squinted at her with humor and then raised an eyebrow, "You are turning something over eighteen right?" A sarcastic smirk, "Because...I really don't want to add yet another new type of felony to my already long list...."

Ok, so Bill's sense of humor wasn't always tasteful, but Beatrix was at least not acting as frosty to him as she had been a moment ago. In truth, he'd just wanted to come over here to see her. Oh sure, he could have used a word or two on just exactly what the hell as going on in his organization, but the real truth of the matter was...he'd just missed her. Even just to sit here and banter with her as she gave him a barely luke warm look was enough. He grew serious, "It will be special Kiddo....I promise.." Like himself, he was sure that Beatrix had spent many birthdays by herself or pretending to enjoy the current company. It was nice, now and then, to have a real good one....and Bill, now knowing this new information, was hell bent that she would.


	12. Something To Sink Your Teeth Into

"What the fuck is that?"

Budd and Beatrix were standing in the midst of Bill's parking lot. They had just gotten off an assignment and Budd picked up a stray something along the way, when Beatrix wasn't looking. Now they were switching cars and Budd was holding something in his arms.

"It's a pussy."

The blonde raised a questionable brow. "A cat?"

"Yeah, a cat if you wanna call it that," Budd retorted dryly and began stroking the bundle of fur that was a sleek ravens black color.

Beatrix stifled a laugh by hiding it behind a smirk. She walked over to him and gingerly took the cat. "Where'd you find him?"

"At the gas station while you were grabbin' a drink."

"Nice to know I can trust you," the blonde mused as long white fingers stroked against the softened fur. The cat gave off a low vibration against her chest. Blue eyes glanced to Budd. "Mind if I hold on to him?"

"I found 'em first…"

"Thanks a bunch," she rang in without getting a clear answer out of Budd. Over the past few days she had taken some more time to think and the assignment had helped. It was an easy one that required not much talent but a great deal of bloodshed. Thus, the results leaving a much more pleasant Beatrix Kiddo.

Budd grumbled and trudged to his truck. "See ya, Budd," Beatrix called after him but the cowboy just wove a hand at her and slammed the door.

With cat in hand the tall 'deadly' blonde walked across the gravel pavement and into Bill's hacienda. She could clearly hear Bill on the cellular as she came into the living room. Not wanting to disturb she settled on the couch. Her long legs stretched out horizontally and she positioned the black fluff of fur on her stomach, stroking it idly.

Bill was on the cell phone for another good five minutes. He was speaking in his typical duel language switching. This time English and Cantonese….which was always a bizarre mix to listen to. Finally, there was the beep of a disconnect button and he strolled into the living room, having heard Beartix enter there a few minutes beforehand. He smiled in greeting and walked up to her, suddenly freezing in place a few feet from away from where she lay stretched out. His eyes narrowed, "What the fuck have you brought into my house?" He said softly. Bill was a little protective of his living establishments, much like his clothing and his weapons......and his women for that matter. He pointed a finger, "It's very much alive...whatever it is...." Of course, it was a cat. "If that thing sprays on anything...or if it has rabies...or worms....or whatever the fuck else....." a slightly amused smirk, "...your compensating me." Underneath the gruff exterior, Bill thought it was actually pretty damn cute. But he wasn't going to admit that so easily.

Beatrix was still on the couch with the cat on her stomach. She laughed lightly at Bill's reaction. She had almost intended to get that type of reaction from him. She needed it. She needed something more light and relieving from the past few days. She slid her fingers beneath the cat's stomach and lifted it up. Its little butt was dangling in the air as she supported it from beneath the hind quarters. The cat had a very pretty face of pure black and illuminating green eyes. Her own illuminating blue eyes stared back at the cat. "Budd found him," she stated quietly, not having taken a glance back to Bill. The cat let out a soft mewing. "I'm sure he's safe." The amusing part of that was that a cat being found by Budd being stated safe was calling Elle safe when she was drunk.

"I think he's adorable." She picked her head up and nudged her nose against the cat's black nose.

Bill watched Beatrix for a moment, a small smile on his face….eyes on her intently. There it was, all women had it.....that maternal instinct...it came with cats, dogs, birds...fish....fucking...spiders...whatever. They couldn't help themselves. He wasn't downplaying it...it was nature at it's finest. Sure, men coddled cute fuzzy animals now and then....but with women it seemed more innate. "It's very cute," Bill admitted after a few seconds and came to sit down on the edge of the couch. He watched her and the cat for a few more moments, "Here...let me see it.." He reached out and took the cat. Like all small cute things, it looked very funny in Bill's large weathered killers hands. He turned it around and held it up to his face to stare at it. It stared back at him, still purring...but not quite as contently as when Beatrix had been holding it. "It's a 'he' all right," Bill said with a raised eyebrow. He smiled, not completely unresisting to the charms of the cute and adorable. He held it to his chest, petting its fur, his hand nearly covering the little thing's head every time he did so. "I'm sure you already have a name for it," he said, eyes still downcast on the cat. He turned and gave Beatrix a smile and then gently handed the creature back to her. "Here, I think he likes you more than me."

"Course he does," she replied. She took the cat and plopped him back on her stomach. She was more or less aware of her maternal side and some times envied it because she had no plans on using it except when it came down to cute, fuzzy things. Bill, she had it set in her mind that he was in no manner maternal. Maybe he could be warm but there wasn't much there. This was her own accusation, of course she could be wrong but she stuck with what she witnessed in past events before. "His name is…" she trailed off a moment, her hand settling across the lengthy body of the slim creature. "...Black Mamba. He's black like a mamba, more so then I am." Her slender brows furrowed as she tilted her chin down to inspect the creature further to make sure the name fit. "And…he's so cute he's deadly. One bite and you'll die of rabies." She canted her head up at Bill with an amused smirk. "I think he'd make a suitable member to the squad. He sure as hell won't cause as much trouble as the humans."

Bill chuckled, finding Beatrix's choice of names quite fitting. She was far better at the naming things than himself. "I believe he is probably more behaved than all of you put together." He raised a brow, "One bite? That is one rabies infested cat you're coddling their Kiddo...." He leaned back, an arm draping over the back arm of the couch. He smiled again, watching her with warm affection as she happily petted the cat in silence. It was the most contented he'd seen her since that fateful night between them a few weeks ago. And that was a very scary comparison there.

"Black Mamba...." he said, looking down at the blissful little cat. "Yes...I like it..." He gave his approval, which most likely didn't matter one bit to Beatrix. Bill stared down at the cat's slowly sweeping tail. He was one of those people who always had the temptation to pull on animal's tails. It was darkly funny. Somehow he didn't think Beatrix would appreciate that all that much though. Instead, he reached out an idly stroked the cat's back fur. "The assignment went alright I'm assuming?" He quarried, changing the subject momentarily.

"It was fine," she replied. Her attention was focused on 'Black Mamba' who was padding circles across Beatrix's stomach. He then settled down into a contented ball of fur, purring away like a vibrator. She continued after the cat was nestled comfortably on her blouse. "The target was a complete asshole. He ran some titty bar that was obviously very unsuccessful, seeing there were almost no occupants. We had to hit off one or two of the strippers and bouncers but other than that it was easy."

Her head was leaning on the arm of the couch and she tilted her chin up to him. "It may have made a mess but…it felt damn good." Leave it to Beatrix to 'enjoy' killing numerous strangers at a bar. At least it helped her diminish anger. "Budd received a split lip but he'll live and I ruined my blouse but it was getting old." It was obvious by now that Beatrix had gotten over what happened a few days ago. She had developed a tactic of closing off certain memories that she found too shameful to entertain. So, she forgot it but the entrance was always there, always mocking her, and she would once in awhile be tempted to open it.

Bill made a mock sad face, "I'm sure the world will mourn the loss of a couple of strippers and some loser bouncers." He smirked, always one to easily write off human life, "Well......sounds like a charming time. I'm sure Budd enjoyed himself.....he always had a penchant for titty bars. He used to sneak into them underage...." a chuckle. And there it was….that confessional from Beatrix....that she enjoyed killing...that it felt "damn good." He gave her a proud look. That was why he knew Beatrix would never be able to fool herself. She'd not always make such an easy confession as that one...but Bill would never forget it. Her spirits seemed higher than before. The cat currently purring contentedly on her stomach seemed to certainly help. "I was going to get you a cat for your birthday...a black one too..." he said, leaning the side of his head against the back of the couch, "But....it appears you already have got one...so..." he threw his hands up, "....I guess your not getting anything." He smirked widely.

She put on a thin smile of amusement. "Damn," she stated loudly and Black Mamba made another soft mewing noise as if Beatrix had disturbed the poor thing. It soon settled back to sleep. She arched a slender brow. "Well," her tone leveling down. "I'll pretend you put him on the road for Budd to find and 'give' to me on purpose."

Bill laughed, "Good plan.....yes...just keep pretending that." Smiling, he stood up, "Have you had dinner yet? I was just about to make some leftovers....eh...some yakisoba noodles and vegetables or something Nikishi made yesterday when I was gone." When Beatrix didn't express any blatant distain for the idea, he disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, leaving her with the cat. He took his time, making some coffee in the process. Beatrix seemed happy to lie there and rest in silence and he gave her a few minutes of that as he prepared the leftovers.

That silence didn't last long. There suddenly was a loud yell from the living room where Beatrix and Black Mamba that cat were lying. The yell soon followed a crash and then a black cat dashing down the hallway like a devil in disguise. A rattled tall blonde soon followed after the fleeting cat but the cat made it to the patio, squeezed through the partially opened sliding door, and dashed into the bushes. Beatrix soon came back into the kitchen area, gingerly suckling on her forefinger. She glanced to Bill who looked amused as well as baffled.

"Fucking cat bit me."

Bill stared back at Beatrix, frozen, "What did it break?" Not surprisingly the first words out of his mouth. He walked up next to her and glanced down the hallway where the little beast had recently fled down, "Where did it go?" Again, not surprisingly his second question, since it's outcome relied heavily on the contents of the first question. "If that thing broke anything worth more than what the bullet would cost to put it down....I'm not going to be pleased," he frowned down the hallway, not hearing any cat-like noises. Bill wasn't always the most....sympathetic with his words.

When Beatrix informed him she'd last seen it go into bushes by the patio, Bill gave a dramatic sigh, "Well...Kiddo...I guess your stuck with me now....I'm hardly as cute and fuzzy." He looked at her finger, picking it up for inspection, "Yeah....little fucker got ya pretty good..." He raised an eyebrow, "Typical male....," a smirk, "...taking your love one moment and then biting the hand that loved him the next moment..." Who knew where the hell Bill came up with that one. He gave her a softer look, "But, it was cute while it lasted...."

"Wish it lasted longer," she muttered snatching her finger back. She despised the fact that even a fucking cat could be so typically male and emphasize the fact that nothing ever 'lasted' for Beatrix. She walked behind the counter, over to the sink, and began to run cool water on her wounded finger. Black Mamba the cat had broken skin and crimson began to mix with the water that poured into the sink. Blue eyes glanced over to Bill who had gone back to cooking, if you could call punching numbers on a microwave cooking.

"If you bite me, I'm gonna bite back." A threatening pause as she turned her eyes back to the running water. "And I may have rabies."

Bill smirked, watching the microwave tray turn slowly, "Hrm....tempting...I might just have to bite you now...just to see what you taste like. It's worth the risk of rabies I think." He popped open the door of the microwave as it beeped, "Besides...if I remember correctly..." he sauntered up beside Beatrix at the sink, setting the bowl of noodles down, "...you've already bitten me...at least once....I find that a very unfair advantage on your part." He bused himself with getting two plates and utensils, still wearing that trademark smirk. "If you need a band aid," he gave her a sidelong glance, "..well...I think you know where they are. There's also a shitload of antiseptic and stitching equipment if you need those as well...for you're.....wound...." Of course she knew that as well.

It was this little sarcastic bickering game between the two of them that Bill loved almost more than anything. Nobody could bicker with him quite like Beatrix. She was a worthy verbal as well as physical opponent. "Make sure you don't get bitten by any more cats Kiddo...." he mumbled, serving up the noodles, "I actually have them hiding all over my house...you've just never seen them before. I sometimes stick them in certain places, so women can be conveniently bitten...and then I must tend to them. Works like a charm...."

Beatrix still wasn't entirely amused by this but she wasn't against playing the game. "Smart ass," she stated as she flicked off the faucet, turned away from him, and walked down the hall way to get her band aid.

She returned within the next minute with a band aid secure around her wounded finger. "I ran into another cat in the bathroom," Beatrix began in an equally smart ass-story-tell voice. "But I snapped his neck before he was able to bite me. He was gonna bite me on the ass too, little fucker." Her façade was calm beneath her playful smirk as she slid onto a stool where a bowl of steaming noodles awaited. She picked up the wooden chopsticks lying beside the bowl and long white fingers adjusted accurately to hold them. Blue eyes watched as Bill took out the last dish from the microwave.

Bill raised his brows, "That was my favorite one too....damn you Kiddo.....that ass biting was it's specialty....took me years to train it to do that. Had a lot of....failed attempts....if you know what I mean." He smirked again, picking up his own bowl and chopsticks and sitting down on the stool next to her, "I was hoping it would give ya a real good bite on the ass too....." He snatched up a wad of noodles with his chopsticks, "...poor little fucker," he added before taking a bite.

They ate in amused silence for a few moments.

"Do you think I need to take you to the hospital for a rabies shot? I can see some foaming at the mouth already starting...." Bill interjected suddenly, his sarcasm completely undaunted, "I think that cut is bleeding through your band aid as well...maybe I should wrap it up in some gauze...." He chuckled, breaking "character" for a brief moment, before going back to eating...which he appeared to be able to do just fine while continuously smirking. "Wait until you meet the cat under my bed covers...."

Beatrix laughed and playfully hit him on the shoulder but it was far from anything hostile. "You sick fuck," she rasped between a dying chuckle.

Bill laughed out loud, making a pretend hurt expression when she hit him. "I never said I wasn't a sick fuck," he added under his breath with a sneer, knowing full well she could hear him.

She turned back to her bowl and poked her chopsticks at her half consumed noodles which were quite good for leftovers. Blue eyes side glanced to him, sparkling with pure fondness. "That…," she noticeably cringed. "…sways me away from getting back into bed with you." She scooped up a wad of noodles and stuffed in her mouth, chewing contently. "But," she swallowed. "If you or a cat got too close I could just scare you off with my rabies." Before she completely swallowed all of her food she opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue which still held masticated food particles. She closed her mouth and swallowed. A brow raised and head canted in Bill's general direction. "Scared?"

He cringed at her tongue showing of halfway chewed up noodles, "That's fucking disgusting! Wait...and you just called me a sick fuck?" He jabbed a chopstick into her side, "Maybe you do have rabies.....Jesus Christ....what have you given me? God...close your mouth....augh...." He went back to eating, giving her a sly smirk, "Yes Kiddo...I'm officially scared now......in fact....I don't think I'm going to let you get into bed with me again. Your mere showing me of your foul eating habits has caused me to become completely disgusted with you...in fact....I don't find you attractive anymore at all.....revolting in fact....."

Beatrix put on a pouty lip façade. She resumed poking at her noodles, her eyes downcast. "I'm revolting now?" She pretended to look very hurt by this fact. Like Bill she could fake things very well. It came in handy when going on assignments. "Then I'll just have to find someone else to crawl into bed with that won't find me and my rabies revolting." She chewed up another scooping of noodles but she made no maneuver to display it again.

Bill considered that, "Hrm...no....I take it all back....I'm full of shit....," he set his chopsticks down in a now empty bowl, "Rabies are actually very sexy....something of a personal turn on actually.." He smirked again, which faltered and just died into a laugh. "Ok...ok..." he waved a hand, still chuckling, the whole act dropping, "Truce?" He leaned over to her stool, giving her a kiss on the cheek as if to further resolve this point.

Beatrix's pout genially flipped to a smile. "Truce," she replied lightly. She found those past ten minutes to be a rare time that she was enjoying herself. She felt happy with herself, her life, her lover, and her decisions. It was a feeling she'd cherish in later years.

They finished up their noodle dishes in remaining silence. Once through they cleared the countertop and put needed things away.

"So," Beatrix said coming up behind Bill and wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned her chin idly on his shoulder. "If I were to say that I'm going to spend the night would it be safe to think that there are for certain no cats under the covers?"

Bill turned his head to the side, and smiled widely at her, "No cats baby.....I swear...."

It had been a rather strange evening...to say the least. But it had been....well, quite nice. After the events of the past week, it was genuinely nice to just be with Beatrix...and act stupid and silly, two things neither of them were.....just for awhile. Of course, they were both equal in the smart ass category. He pivoted around, so that he was facing her, her arms still wrapped around his neck. "....nothing under the covers...." a suggestive eyebrow, "except....me of course...and perhaps.....you......" His hand came up to brush some unruly blonde locks out of the way, "No cats....no.....guns....no violence," a pause and a twinkle of that smart ass came back in his eye, "unless you want it of course...." the smirk was replaced by the former sweet smile, "....nobody hating you...us...whatever...none of that bullshit....." His other hand came up to trace along her smooth neck. "Just us....whatever that entails....I don't care...as long as it's with you...." There was a definite look of almost boyish imploring in those normally hard brown eyes of Bill's. Oh sure, Bill could be a real sweet talker when it suited him, but there was a sense of real truth with Beatrix. He took a few steps backwards, taking her with him, and sat down on the edge of one of the kitchen stools. His arms wound her waist, face turned up to look at her with heated affection.

"You know," she began quietly. "Its times like these I remember why I really love you." Of course there were other factors to her reasons for loving him but that was a major one. She was able to forget who…what he was…and she could do the same for herself and focus on the parts that no one ever had the pleasure of viewing. Beatrix knew Bill had a heart, whether he was willing to accept it or not. If he didn't have one then he wouldn't act like this, not towards her and he sure as hell wasn't using her. She was more then positive he'd most likely never accept that fact as she had trouble accepting her own heart, which she showed signs of having more times then preferred, but it was there.

Well now she had just been staring at him, drowned in affection for the past fifty seconds. She blinked hard coming out her reverie and a new strain of thoughts set off in her pretty blonde head. She tilted her chin down to her chest. "We broke a promise," a brief pause before she continued, "Not necessarily a promise but we went against our word. I recall maybe a month or two ago stating we were going to take a step back." Ah, she had clear memories of that night after the escapade at Vincent's. She was positive Vernita had over heard their 'brawl' that night as well and that's where the starts of that relationship started to bleed. Her slender brows raised a fraction. "We never officially took a step forward, again."

Bill continued to watch her with that same warm imploring expression. It took him a second or two to recall what she was speaking of, but he quickly remembered that evening and their rather cruel conversation that followed. At the time, if had seemed right....it.. had served its purpose. But right now, Bill couldn't fathom going back to that moment. "No....we didn't," he replied softly to her question with a gentle smile. Not officially, no, but sure as hell they had in a nonofficial context. Ever since Beatrix had returned from her little stint with the CPA, they had taken a number of steps forward. They were somewhat like toddler steps: faulty, and stumbling, prone to falling down and veering off to the sides but they had been steps forward nonetheless. It had not been an easy walk, but he knew it was worth it. Looking at her right now only reaffirmed that belief. "Well," Bill looked at her tilted head under heavily hooded eyes, "I could call up Sofie and have her come here with a drafted up contract....an official "Step Forward" contract....," a wisp of a smirk, "But...I think I'd rather leave any third parties out of this...." It was hard to kill the smart ass within Bill. His arms tightened around her waist, as he once again grew serious. His face was centimeters from her lower neck and he could feel the body heat emitting from her skin. He could also see part of her recently received slash, which was now...turning into a partial scar. There were always constant reminders of the life they led. He inhaled a large breath through his nose, trying to break himself out of that pheromone induced hypnotic state. He knew Beatrix had addressed an important point, and like all things Bill did, he didn't want to leave it unfinished. "I think we were right...to make that promise...then," he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, "...but this...is now....and now...I think we would be right...to take a step forward.....officially..," his gaze rose up to her face, "....that is.....if both of us agree on that matter.."

"There's no argument on my side," she said without any hesitation. The 'time-out' had served its purpose better then expected and there was no point in continuing it. They were obviously far from a time-out period. In Beatrix's mind they had passed the level of time-out but they had yet to complete the challenge. Yes, their relationship was at an all time 'high' but it wasn't complete. She wasn't sure what could make it complete. Obviously sex and truthfully admitting their love for one another wasn't enough. She'd figure it out, it'd just take time. She was no rush.

She closed the small distance between them, leaned down a few inches, and warmly weaved her arms around his neck; an embrace of sorts. She buried her face against the area his shoulder and neck met, soft locks of hair spilling against the material of his shirt. Beatrix needed this. The unfamiliar feeling of being wanted, loved, cared about, content, and equally secure. Call it a 'womanly' gesture but it felt damn good too.

Bill placed one of his hands on the back of her head in a protective and comforting gesture, his fingers buried in her hair. He tilted his own head, so that the side of it was now resting against hers. He didn't say anything. Nothing he could say could properly describe how he felt....so, like Beatrix, he let actions speak louder than words. For some reason he was reminded of the first woman he ever loved....or, at the age of eighteen, he thought he'd loved. Sure, he'd been with a good number of women at that point, but she was the first one he genuinely felt completely in love with. Maybe he had been...maybe not...who knew...it had been too long ago to make a proper judgment. He did remember she had been beautiful, which...even then, had become something of a staple for him. This thought wasn't some attempt at a comparison, because he knew no woman could even begin to compare to Beatrix....but what did spark the thought was the way Beatrix laid her head in the crook of his shoulder. This girl used to do that to him all the time. She wasn't very good at speaking English, nor was she very intelligent....but she was sweet. And she had, from day one, looked to him for protection. He'd been rather idealistic then...at least compared to how he was now....and he'd thought he could do just that, protect her. In the end, he'd failed miserably. He had proven to only corrupt her and let her get swept away into an uncaring world. She ended up loathing him. He realized years later, that she would have been better off never meeting him. She would never have atoned too much, but she would have not fallen as low as she had. She was one of Bill's first "projects"....and it had backfired on him.

Well, Beatrix was nothing like that.....she was not perfect, but she was pretty damn close in his mind. Those things would never happen to her....at least...not like that. But, Bill could not help but feel a very strong, "full circle" feeling at the moment...in remembering the first woman he'd loved and now...nearly forty years later, holding the last one he'd ever love. Even now, he knew that. In some way or another Beatrix would be the last he'd love. If there was to be anything after her, it would be nothing but a hallow shell. His thoughts weren't as gloomy as they seemed, but he was certainly struck with the sense of irony.

He continued to hold her like that. This is what she needed and he was more than wiling to give that to her. From what Bill knew, Beatrix had not had an easy life. She had lacked any real strong male figure in her life until she'd met him. Her mother was worthless when it came to parenting and she had a strong distrust for men. She hadn't of had it easy and he could understand why she needed this sort of thing so badly. Again, Bill was a murdering bastard, but he was at least an understanding murdering bastard.

He kept stroking her hair, eyes nearly closed. He wanted her to know she could stay like that as long as she wanted.

And she had intentions to stay in that position for some time. Even a woman that killed people for a living needed support and usually that support came from someone they loved and loved them back. Parents could supply this support but seeing as Beatrix's parents could go to hell for all she cared, she bounced back on Bill. She wasn't sure how stable a support he was but for now he was as thick as the wall around his debatable heart.

Beatrix's life could be so unstable it was a relief she could depend on Bill for stability, especially now with everything that was transpiring around them. She could deal with a shitload of things but one can only deal for so long. It really broke her apart knowing that nearly all of her associates despised her. She knew their despise ran as deep as blood but she held true to her own belief that they'd never do anything drastic against her.

Her back was beginning to ache at the posture she was holding herself in and it came time to pull away. There was obvious reluctance as she came back to a proper posture and removed her head from his shoulder and the crook of his neck. Those bright blue hues were glossed over but it'd be a task to figure out what it meant. She pursed her lips and idly raised a hand to affectionately stroke his cheek.

Bill smiled softly. There was another thing she did that he loved. It was a tender act from a woman who normally used those hands to end the lives of others. He shut his eyes, savoring the sensation. Nobody saw Bill like this but Beatrix. He was far too vulnerable and open at moments like this for the rest of the world to be allowed to see that side. To everyone else, for all they knew, he lacked the capacity to even come remotely close to this. But how wrong they were...... Yet, it was vital he keep that act of duality up....vital for his position of power and prowess as a cold killer.

He opened his eyes finally, smiling under her hand. Her glossed over eyes stared back at him. Large and blue.....they lacked the innocence they used to....but in return they had gained much more wisdom and experience. Again, it was that loss of innocence….that, paradox issue. But this was how he liked her. It wasn't the bouncy innocent young woman he'd fallen in love with, but the far more grounded, slowly jading woman standing before him. He saw that need for stability in her and he wanted to be that rock she could depend on. He had every intention of doing so. He was a man of honor, debatable morals, but honor nonetheless. He was no knight in shining armor, he was no savior...in fact, perhaps the very opposite...but he was dependable to be strong when needed and supportive to the woman who stood with him.

He gazed back at those blue orbs, looking completely lulled and sedated. "I do...love you Kiddo," he said finally, suddenly feeling the need to reaffirm that concept in her mind.

"I know," she breathed softly. That truth would be affirmed in her mind forever. There would be times later on where she would doubt that truth but it'd never fade away. Then it came back to the aspect of how deep her love for him went. Of course she loved him, very much so but as Bill had so clearly stated to her she was a pathological liar and there would be points in her life she'd deny her love for him or anyone.

The simple fact was that when she was faced with the subject of Bill or herself she had a tendency to not accept certain truths, a character flaw. Either way, as much as she'd deny it deep down, she did love him. Bill was her teacher, master, mentor, corrupter, and lover. And subconsciously she was aware that she could never completely be any other man's woman. Like Vernita said, she was stuck him and she better make the best of it. She idly moistened her lips and said, "I love you too…."

His affectionate expression deepened further. Yes, it was indeed Bill himself who had called Beatrix a pathological liar. But, there were moments...where he truly hoped and truly believed that she was telling the truth. This was one of those moments. He knew she loved him....he wasn't sure how much...or sometimes even why....but he could see it. He was a very perceptive reader of human emotions after all, and he was very rarely fooled, especially when it came to such a strong emotion. Later she might deny it or lie to herself....but he knew....he'd always know. As he had mentally etched for himself before, that was his truth.

He wasn't sure how things had gotten so intense so quickly this evening.....but then again, he wasn't all that surprised. They both fed off intensity. And thus it was no surprise when Bill leaned in to kiss her, he somewhat skipped over the first tentative set of kisses and went straight for the chase, rather intensely. The hand that had been sweetly lying on her hair previously, was now softly pressing against the back of her head, joined quickly by his other hand. And there it was again.....that now familiar feeling of a loss of control. He was beginning to catch onto that now, and with Beatrix it didn't take all that long.

Beatrix then happily and willingly leaned into his kiss adding her own sense of losing control to the mix. In these situations when pheromones and lust were high she was able to keep her mind in rational territory. By doing so she was able to make choices that Bill or any man could not. It was an upper hand she didn't take advantage of. Either way, her choices could have more of an impact then others. This choice was something of a no-brainer. The tall blonde reluctantly broke the passionate kiss and blue eyes stared into his with blatant 'wanting'. Her pink lips curled into a half smile of obvious seduction. "I think," she began in an overly softened tone that was dripping with further lust. "We should make that official 'step-forward' somewhere more…appropriate."

It didn't take a genius to catch on to what she was implying. So, without further hesitation or playful bickering, the two killers moved into Bill's bedroom where no cats lurked under the covers to bite one's ass.


	13. Chapter 45

San Jose, California.

"Now that's not something you see everyday," a dark haired woman in her mid thirties murmured to an equally thirty something woman sitting beside her on a park bench. Near the two women, a group of young children ran around playing together in the surrounding park...the two friend's offspring running and screaming in unison as if they were in fact all siblings. The other woman's head turned to scope for what her friend was talking about. She quickly spotted the subjects of their interest, "Oh my god.....," her mouth went slightly agape, "....you're right." She raised her eyebrows, "My husband would probably give his right arm to be that man."

"Yeah....mine too...." the other woman replied, a little absent mindedly, as she continued to watch the trio of figures walk by.

"Elle....stop strutting so much....we're already attracting enough attention as it is," Bill grumbled under his breath, straightening his tie as if to emphasize the point of decorum. He glared at her through a pair of dark sunglasses. He then flashed a broad smile at two women in the nearby park, who were currently staring at the trio of assassins. He was walking quite confidently in-between Elle and Beatrix. This placement was no accident. Elle hadn't tried to kill Beatrix for at least a few months, but he was still rather wary of the whole thing. He wasn't going to take any chances, especially when it came to Elle. There was no denying the rather strange and somewhat provocative picture the three of them made as they strolled at a rapid pace down the street; all of them roughly the same six foot height, neither of the women short in the slightest. Elle was dressed in knee high black boots, a black skirt, white blouse, waist length black leather coat and matching black eye patch of course. Her long blonde hair was flying about dramatically. She was smoking as usual. Bill, who was currently wearing a black suit and silk tie, hadn't been very pleased to see that Elle had decided to go for that look now that they were forced to walk a little bit before reaching their destination. Then again, she loved attention and most likely did it on purpose in some twisted way. At least he could count on Beatrix to have dressed appropriately. She looked stunning as always, but far less...saucy then Elle. Of course, none of this helped to detract from the number of stares they were receiving on the streets. Actually, Bill knew he looked pretty fucking cool but that didn't outweigh the possibility of being accosted in public, especially when all three of them were currently armed to the teeth.

And just why in the hell was Bill walking down the middle of a public street flanked by two deadly tall blondes? Well, as it turned out an "old friend" of Bill's, a corporate big wig, had pulled a fast one on him. The man had decided to go with another organization without any prior warning, and without giving any real reason. That other organization turned out to be none other than, The Certified Private Assassins...better known as the CPA. Bill had found this out through his many resources and didn't find it all that amusing. Now, that in itself wasn't enough to warrant a......"visit." But this former client had then turned around and hired the CPA to off Bill himself. It was a stupid idea to begin with, and the so called assassin had failed miserably. Beatrix herself had had the honor of witnessing the whole thing, when the next morning after her and Bill had....officially taken a step forward, so to speak, the assassin showed up to collect. That bitch as it turns out, was Beatrix's old CPA ice queen acquaintance, Clarice. It had all been rather amusing, for a short time at least...Clarice showing up, bursting through the patio doors, pistol in hand, to find Beatrix somewhat scantily clad in the living room of her target. The look on her face had been priceless. No doubt Beatrix would have done the honors herself, and quite happily...but Bill had surprised Clarice with a sneak attack from the hallway. Clarice, as it turned out, was pretty useless once disarmed. She didn't stand a chance. Bill had made sure she spilled the whole story about his former client, before dragging her out into the garden to perform the "coup de gras." Sadly, it had sorta ruined the mood of the "morning after" thing. But, as Beatrix and he were both finding out...such things were hardly ever ideal....especially in their lifestyle.

Bill had been furious. He'd never had a client turn on him and hire a rival organization to attempt to kill him. He'd immediately called up Bob and the two of them had a good row over the phone. Bob kept emphatically stating, "It was just business Bill. It's just another job." Bill could understand that angle and after a good hour he and Bob were back on terms of mutual distain for one another. The next move was to get rid of this former client. Bill had taken it personally and he was going to make it personal by doing the honors himself. But, like hell he was going alone. This former client was big time. He was the CEO of a well known computer chip maker and distributor in the ever growing "Silicon Valley". He also had his hands in just about every dirty corner of the "underworld" as one could possibly pull off, thus the need for the services of Bill. Former services that is. The client was not much of a threat when it came to firepower or even brute manpower...but he was extremely paranoid, almost to an unhealthy point. Then again, with all the shit he was in, one couldn't really blame him. Bill knew he needed some help with this. Beatrix had been quick to volunteer, but he still wanted another Viper along. Vernita was away on vacation, taking advantage of her...suspension. Budd and O-Ren were away on another assignment. That left Elle. Elle was a strange bird, no doubt and she'd simply nodded and shrugged when Bill filled her in on the mission. She didn't react one way or another to the added news that Beatrix was coming along. This could either be very good or very bad.

Then there was the issue with getting to this former client. In his hyper paranoid state, he had shut himself off in his tower...so to speak. There was no getting into the parking garage under the tall office building his company occupied. Bill had tried to find parking closer, but soon found out, to his great annoyance, that some stupid teeny bopper concert was in town that night and there was absolutely no parking even remotely close to their target's building. The whole situation was fucking ridiculous in Bill's mind. It was very likely this guy knew that Bill was coming for him. He was a man of information. Although, Bob swore upon his black soul that he wouldn't say a thing to him. Bill didn't trust any of that bullshit and was quite prepared to walk into a situation that may have been preset. This former client would no doubt have a good handful of bodyguards and security precautions set up. And thus, here they were....strolling down the late afternoon streets of San Jose...looking like some twisted version of Charlie's Angels.

"Goddamnit Elle," Bill glared at the willowy blonde once again, "Just....act natural," he paused, realizing the error in that statement. Elle wouldn't know "natural" if it came up and kicked her in the ass. "...well....just....stop the hooker walk."

"I'm not doing a hooker walk honey," she exhaled a large stream of smoke, "This is always how I walk."

Grumbling, Bill turned to glance at Beatrix with a smirk.

"If you put your shoulders back, head up, and stopped swaying your ass so much it wouldn't draw attention," Beatrix suggested with intended sarcasm and mockery in her blonde counter part's direction. Not that Beatrix should be making such critiques on walking as her 'walk' drew attention just as easily. She wasn't trying; she could just effortlessly pull off a 'sexy' walk.

Receiving a muttered 'bitch' from Elle, Beatrix shut up knowing her sarcasm could only be taken so far considering their tight terms.

Ever since Clarice's burst in from earlier that morning the tall blonde found the whole situation utterly amusing. It was even more amusing due to the fact that Beatrix was in such high spirits from the night before. Not just because the sex had been great, hell sex usually couldn't be bad when it came down to Bill but the whole night had been enjoyable. She tried to rub off her 'high' spirits on Bill after the whole incident with Clarice followed by the heated conversation with Bob. She put in a worthy effort but she also couldn't deny Bill the right to be pissed off for logical reasons. She was equally pissed off, but her anger would most likely burst through during the actual physical encounter. That's were the fun was.

The remainder of the walk the trio took through the streets was filled with continued stares and mutters. Beatrix was laughing her ass off when a drunk from the alley approached Bill and asked if he'd 'share'. Of course Bill knew what this meant and delivered the man a glare that would send a mouse fleeing for its life. 'That was pretty fucking funny,' Elle quaintly put in afterwards. Which it was. Well, the amusement of their walk had to come to an end when they crossed the corner onto the street where their former client resided. The outside area was pretty empty but when peering into the large glass panned windows there was a hell of a lot of security. Large men and women in suits with shaded sun glasses, FBI-wannabes. Beatrix casually turned to Bill with a placid façade as they stood off in an alley beside the business complex. "Alright, Bill, what's your brilliant plan of action?"

Bill took a long moment to scan the tall building with a squinted glare upwards. "Fuck...." he murmured, "...he's got suits on every goddamn floor. This isn't going to be pretty......" a twist of the lip, "..more like a bloodbath." Bill turned his attention back to the matter at hand, answering Beatrix's posed question. "Brilliant hardly...but I do have a plan. It would be stupid to start at the bottom and work our way up, when I know for a fact this asshole's office is that one...right there..." he pointed to a slightly differently tinted stripe of windows at the very top of the structure. "As fun as it would be to take on the entire building's security detail, I would prefer to get our job done and then do what we need to do to get out onto the street. Once we're back on the street, we're relatively safe.....it's easy to get lost in the mix." Even when they did stand out like a sore thumb. "Now...to get to the top....." Bill seemed to have already decided this, because it didn't take him long to pose the next idea. "Unless one of us is Peter Parker in disguise...that," he pointed to the side of the building, which was in fact the back. There was a good amount of piping and heating ducts, but most predominantly was a towering line of interlocking and offset ladders. "...is how we're going to do it."

Now Elle looked phased, "The fucking fire escape? Hell no!"

"Hell yes...." Bill replied with flourish, already strolling in the right direction. He gave Beatrix a smile and nodded his head towards the building as if inviting her to some enticing bit of fun. Seeing the two of them already heading that way, Elle threw her hands up. "Fine....augh...I'm coming....."

Once the trio of killers were situated at the bottom of the towering ladder, Bill made the arrangements. "Alright...Kiddo...you go first. I'll be right behind you. Elle you take the rear."

"What.....you don't want to look up my skirt Bill?" Elle smirked.

"No, not today," he replied, "Instead you can get a good look at my ass." Elle didn't reply to that and her expression was difficult to read. And so, they began the steady climb upwards...attempting to follow that clichéd old saying,..."don't look down."

Their targets office was a good ten stories up which left a hell of a lot of climbing. Beatrix wasn't thrilled about climbing up the rusty and rickety ladders but she had faith that she wouldn't fall. But she did speculate when they were approaching the fourth floor; "If I fall," she began in conversational tone. "Bill falls and then we all fall on Elle and squash her." Bill chuckled and Elle sneered. The remainder of the climb was taken in silent concentration.

Within twenty minutes the trio had reached the tenth floor cat-walk and the cat-walk stretched long enough to support them all time to sit and recoup. Beatrix was idly attaching a clip to her fire arm to more or less prepare herself. She intended to keep this day amusingly enjoyable.

Elle looked highly irritated, as she went about straightening her skirt and blouse. That little climb had not been all that enjoyable and she kept casting glares Bill's direction as she went about her business of loading her weapons.

Bill looked a little overexerted, well not as much as he had the night before but that had been because of completely different reasons. "Not my best idea...." he grumbled, leaning against the rail of the catwalk, as he loaded a clip into his pistol. "But...we're only a few floors from where we need to be...and that is ideal."

Elle grumbled, not giving a shit about ideal at the moment. "Well, I'm ready...." she said in a snitty tone, holstering her boot knife, along with two well hidden firearms. She'd wanted to take her AK along this time, but Bill had made her leave it behind under the argument that it was a little...."too much" for this assignment. Good thing too, because she wouldn't have gotten away with that walking down the street.

Bill rebuttoned his jacket, once again hiding his firearms, "You ready Kiddo?" He glanced at Beatrix, who gave him an affirmative. "Alright...." he headed across the catwalk. "We can't open the fire escape door," he motioned to the nearby door, "It will set off one hell of an alarm....not exactly stealthy." He glanced around the nearby area, which was something of a landing. There was a relatively small window a few feet away from the fire exit door. The window looked like a left over from an earlier age, no doubt looked over when the building had been remolded into a more modern style. "Bingo," Bill smirked, heading right for the window. He removed something that looked like a pocket knife from under his jacket and spent a few minutes working on the window. It must be noted that Bill was something of a Renaissance Man when it came to illegal activities and knowledge. He'd done or at least knew how to perform just about anything that was illegal and shady. His abilities ran the full spectrum and even quietly breaking into a window was a necessary thing to know how to do well. After a moment, he popped the frame of the window off, setting it aside and then removed the glass...likewise, setting that softly down. He turned to the two blondes, "This'll do....." The window was a little high and not very wide, but it was manageable.

Elle just continued to glare.

Beatrix came up beside Bill and inspected the open window. Blue eyes glanced to him as if inspecting his body, which she had done before but for different reasons, then her eyes shifted to Elle where she did the same maneuver, and finally came back to herself with quick inspection. "Good thing we're all…skinny," she stated softly to herself.

The window was tight and Beatrix just managed to get through without smashing her head on the side. The two other killers followed with little effort involved in squeezing in. It seemed the window they had climbed through lead into a janitor's closet. Why the hell you'd have a window in a closet was up for question but it made useful for staying 'stealthy'. The closet was large, as it accustomed all three assassins nicely without too much of a close proximity to one another. The walls were scattered with brooms, mops, a water bucket, towels, and other various cleaning products. It was rather damp and musty but no one complained as they weren't going to be there that long. The tall blonde extended an arm and plucked the beaded chain hanging from the ceiling. A single light bulb lit up giving off an iridescent glow.

Beatrix turned to Bill, her demeanor placid. "Should we split up?" A suggestion as well as question.

"Well this is charming," Elle drawled sarcastically, as Beatrix pulled the light on to reveal their less than bright surroundings.

"It's perfect," Bill looked pleased to have ended up in such a sneaky locale. The damp closet looked like it hadn't been properly tended to in sometime. It was doubtful anybody would even be near it. He looked at Beatrix, "Yes...we should split up….at least for now. I've got a score to settle with this bastard and I need you to watching my back while I do so. There's going to be a lot of warm bodies to clear out of the way." He had the utmost confidence that the two women were capable of this task. "Nothing either of you can't handle. These are white collar security assholes...the most training most of them received was at a ten week course at the local community college. They're fodder." He checked the placement of his weapons once more just out of pure habit. "I'm going to attempt to...blend in...as much as possible, until I get to where I need to be. I'm afraid you two won't get far in that mode.....which is fine, because I need both of you to cause one hell of a distraction." He smirked, "I'm certainly not worried about that one." Bill made his way to the door, "Alright...give me two minutes headway...and then...both of you head out and split up. I don't expect anything pretty...." He gave them both one last fleeting look and then slipped out the door, a bright sliver of light temporarily lit up the dim closet as he departed.

Elle leaned up against a nearby metal shelf. Had Bill just realized what he'd done in leaving the two of them alone in a secluded closet for two minutes? She pursed her lips, fixing Beatrix with that one blue eye of hers. "So...Bea....I hope you don't think that just because I'm being civil to you at the moment, that I still don't despise you." It was somewhat random, but then again...this was Elle. "I consider myself far more driven then Vernita. She really botched that whole....kill Bea thing.....but," she tilted her head in distinctive Elle fashion, "...when the time comes...I won't hardly be as unsuccessful." She glanced down at her watch, "Oh! Just look at the time....one minute to go....." she smirked, attempting to egg Beatrix on.

Beatrix held a coy smile plastered across her face as the shadows bounced off her slim body. The shadows reflected on her face made her appearance appear more sadistic but she was really just amused. She knew Elle was only being civil because Bill was nearby and like hell would she make a scene after what happened with Vernita. She let her head shake from one side to the other methodically and her blue eyes shifted to the door. She allowed ten seconds of their one minute together to pass before speaking, "I'll take the north wing and you can handle the south." The tall blonde obviously wasn't going to allow Elle's 'threat' to 'egg' her on in any manner. The only thing egging Beatrix on was the idea that the quicker they disposed of bodies the quicker they could get home.

The minute passed and Beatrix took a step to the exit. She tilted her chin downwards as if to inspect herself. She canted her head in Elle's direction. "No blood stains. I'm proud of you." With that snide and mocking remark delivered Beatrix opened the door and exited the confided janitor's closet.

Elle sneered. "Bitch..." she muttered under breath as she watched Beatrix slip out of the closet. Setting her rather prominent jaw angrily, she pulled out a large Dessert Eagle from underneath her jacket. She cocked back the chamber with a vicious yank and kicked open the door with one of her booted feet. As the door flew open, it smacked right into a suited man who happened to be walking by at that moment. Not even bothering to look if he was security or just a bystander, she put a few rounds of bullets into him. This was all really unnecessary, but obviously Elle was feeling a little unnecessary herself at the moment. And she'd just have to take out her aggressions on these stupid fuckers.

Bill had managed to do a good enough job of "blending in" thus far. He strolled up and down the hallways, giving friendly nods and bullshit words of greeting to those who passed by him. He received a few elongated stares though; his suit was just a little too nice for even this building, his tied back hair just a little too long for the normal "look" around here. But most people assumed he was just from Europe or something and didn't take much notice. He casually made his way up the next few floors this way. He was nearly to the target's office, when he heard a sharp voice behind him.

"Hey you...wait just a second."

Bill slowed down and turned, a hand idly rising up to the collar of his jacket, where inches away he was stowing away a throwing knife.

"Yes?" He replied softly and casually, ready to strike out at any second.

A blonde haired man was bending around the corner. He was wearing a hideous tie and holding an empty coffee mug in his hand. He sure as hell didn't look like security, but as Bill knew full well, appearances could be you give me a hand here. The coffee machine just frizzled out ....and as you well know, if Diane doesn't get her coffee....well," he chuckled, "..we're all in for it."

Bill smiled placidly, "Of course." He walked towards the man, "Yes.....I remember what happened the last time she was deprived of her drug of choice." He whistled, "That wasn't pretty."

The other man laughed inanely, leading Bill around the corner where a small employee kitchen was nestled, "You were there too? Jesus...wasn't that funny as all hell?"

"Very entertaining," a wide smile for added impact. The man, who continued to chuckle to himself, indicated the coffee machine. "Well....there it is. I've tried for a good twenty minutes, but I'm not so good with that sorta stuff. Maybe you'll have more luck."

Bill inspected the busted machine with a raised eyebrow, "I will do my best," He put up a bullshit showing of looking at the back of the machine, inspecting the wiring. He did this for a good couple of minutes as the idiotic blonde man prattled on about ignorant office gossip. His chattering voice was driving Bill up the wall, but Bill's expression remained unchanged. "Hey...wait....what department do you work in anyways?" The man finally brought the conversation beyond himself. "Because, I don't really remember you actually....and I'm damn good at remembering faces."

Bill paused, "I work in collections."

The blonde man looked utterly confused, "Collections? But this is a software company....we outsource all of our collections out to other compa-" That was it; Bill had played this up long enough. He grabbed the halfway empty coffee pot that was sitting behind the broken machine, and swinging it around, he smashed it right into the man's face with an extreme amount of force. Again Bill remained completely placid. The man began screaming as he grasped at his bloody and glass embedded face. Bill didn't want to fire any rounds just yet, so grabbing the man by his neck, he opened one of the kitchen's many drawers and sticking the stupid asshole's head in the drawer he slammed it open and shut repeatedly until the man ceased making any noises at all. Letting the body slump onto the floor, Bill straightened his jacket, checked for blood and not finding any strolled out of the kitchen with a satisfied look on his face, his cover still intact. He had one floor to go, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to just walk onto it like this. While riding the elevator up, he removed his revolver from his jacket, whistling to himself. He watched the doors with that perfected murderous stare as they slowly opened.

Elle meanwhile, was being far messier. In her rage, she began shooting anything that moved. This caused her to shoot a number of secretaries and even a UPS man in the process...but oh well! It wasn't her fucking fault that they were in the way of her bullets. Bill wanted a distraction, and she sure as hell was going to give him one. She fired a few rounds up into the lights, and then turned her attention to a few computers...blowing those apart too. People were fleeing everywhere, screaming and yelling in terror. She loved that sound. Her face was frozen in a wise ass smirk, her eye blazing with sadistic enjoyment. She knew that soon security types would show up and her challenge would become somewhat more difficult...but for now, she was enjoying this easy massacre with relish.

Meanwhile, the other tall blonde was being just as messy but not as extravagantly. Her means of forming a distraction could be just as bloody as what Elle was performing but Beatrix wasn't in the mood. Her bouts of being extremely bloody and sadistic would occur spontaneously and with a more 'imperative' reason.

Anyway, she was putting in her means of distractions in the North wing. She could hear the screams from Elle's side which was as amusing as it was annoying. Beatrix was easily picking off the 'innocent' bystanders like flies to a horse. They were idiots who never saw a gun in their lives, so they had no clue how to properly run from a weapon. Everything was as 'easy as pie' until some asshole went and called security on the tall blonde assassin. To Beatrix's surprise only three security guys came to the helpless call of the dying employees. Three men in typical security guard fashion, sticks, guns, and handcuffs. Beatrix raised a slender brow, assessing her targets, before she went in for the kill.

Elle continued her rampage of terror, enjoying every bloody second of it. Eventually security did get called and she had to actually "try" a little bit to get rid of her targets. Still, if it hadn't been so bloody and violent she might have yawned. She could only hope that Bill would get done soon enough...she was ready to get the hell out of this stuffy office building.

As soon as Bill stepped out of the hallway, he was attacked from nearly all sides. Undaunted, he evaded two attackers, threw one into the other, kicked another while simultaneously whirling around with his revolver finishing off two others with a bullet to the chest. It all happened rather quickly, but one had to live by their instincts...and it was a good thing Bill had killer instincts. In this same group fighting fashion he made his way slowly down the hallway. He managed to get hit in the face a few times and get one rather nasty blow to the shoulder in the process. But, he ended up a hell of a lot better off than those who had attacked him. He took pride in the fact that he could easily off guys half his age. It wasn't just training....it was cunning...and vicious relentless. Finally, removing one last target with a shot to the knee, Bill found himself at the door of his former client and current target. He glanced up just in time to see a security camera pointed right at his face, he brought his gun up and ended that show. But, he knew that he'd been spotted by the man inside and he had to prepare for that. Straightening his tie once again, he opened the door...gun still in hand.

Sitting across from him, behind a desk, was a middle aged man, pudgy, balding, wearing a pair of large glasses. He didn't look like much, but this man was a multi billion dollar CEO....and for a very short period of time a betrayer to Bill. Bill's betrayers tended to not exist all that long, just like this one wouldn't.

The man was pointing a pistol right at Bill. A tall brunette, stood next to his desk, a hand clasped on the man's shoulder in terror. She must be one of those..."personal assistants."

Bill just smirked. He had nothing to say to this man. This asshole had fucked him over and now he had to pay the price. It was really quite simple.

"Good try Bill...." the man said in a slightly nervous voice, "I knew you'd show up......"

"Must be losing my knack of surprise," Bill shrugged, sitting down across from the desk as if he was here for a meeting.

"What the hell are you doing?" The nervous CEO licked his lips.

"Sitting down," Bill retorted dryly.

The CEO only looked irritated, he adjusted his grip on the pistol, "I'm going to kill you."

"No your not."

It was the CEO's turn to smirk, "And how do you know that?"

"Is this desk oak?" Bill quarried eyeing the wooden desk with a scrutinizing eye.

"What?" This threw the other man completely, "Eh.....no.....I don't think so.."

"Good," And with that, Bill fired his pistol right into the desk, not moving the weapon from off of his thigh. The bullet made a straight path through the very non-oak desk and nailed the other man right in the gut. The woman screamed, watching with horror as the man at her side doubled over in agony, his mouth agape...blood already trickling out.

Bill raised an eyebrow at her, "Hrm...what a waste, " He picked the revolver up off his leg and shot her in the head. She slumped backwards onto the carpet, her head a rather grisly sight. Standing up nonchalantly, Bill opened the door and made his way back the hallway. This time his pace was far more hurried. It was essential he find Elle and Beatrix as soon as possible. He took the elevator down to their original floor. It was Beatrix whom he spotted first.

"Bill," the tall blonde breathed as she spotted him coming down the hall. She gave a fleeting glance to the security guard splayed out on the floor cradling a broken arm. A lopsided smirk crossed her deadly innocent features, her head cocked to the side, and she effortlessly put a bullet between his eyes. All targets taken care of, she moved forward and met Bill half way. Her lips pursed upon noticing the various battle wounds he acquired. She had only taken a hit to the gut and a sore wrist during her attempt at causing a distraction. The only thing prominent was the pale blue blouse she wore was now a vibrant shade of red. A few sprays of blood mingled with blonde locks.

Her hand came up in an attempt to gingerly cup his cheek but she hovered inches from touching raw skin. "Poor baby," she cooed and let her hand fall. Her 'caring' and 'maternal' instincts dropped just as quickly as they appeared. "Can we leave now?"

Bill smirked at Beatrix's spark of concern. He played if off cool, waving his hand dismissively, "Eh….it's nothing..." Actually, it hurt like a bitch! But, he wasn't going to admit that now. Later on perhaps.....when they weren't on assignment, well then….she could be as caring as she wanted to be.....

He strolled down the hallway, Beatrix turning to follow, "We can leave as soon as we find that cycloptic Amazon woman...." There were bodies everywhere, blood splattered the walls. There were desks over turned and paper everywhere. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight, but neither of the killers seemed to take much notice. He glanced at Beatrix as they searched the now rather empty halls for Elle, "That was a worthy distraction. That asshole almost wasn't worth the hassle." Then again, he'd fucked Bill over.....and thus, it had been worth it. They both paused, when there was the distinctive sound of gunfire around the corner. Elle's voice could be heard over the gunfire, "Good try you stupid fucks!" A laugh, and more gunfire.

"Enough Elle," Bill said as he and Beatrix rounded the corner to find Elle amidst a pile of bodies, two Dessert Eagles in her hands.

Bill raised his eyebrow. Elle gave him a look, and shrugged, "I'm trying more for the John Woo style...."

"I can see that..." he replied with a sneer. "Come on...let's get out of here. The local cops and most likely the FBI will be here any minute." It didn't take the trio long to retrace their steps. Bill thought it best they leave the way they came in, since that had worked well enough the first time. Back into the closet, through the window, which Bill preformed with a couple of winces this time. Then, out onto the catwalk and carefully back down the fire escape.

Thankfully Elle remained rather quiet the entire time. Her clothing was spattered in blood, and a large amount of it had caked in her hair. It was difficult to tell if she was happy about this or not. Like Beatrix she'd received a small amount of bumps and bruises.

Once the three of them were back down in the alley, Bill took a moment to think. He leaned against the wall, a hand pressing tenderly on his raw face, "We can't get back to the car like this...." Both Elle and Beatrix looked more than bloody enough to gain a fair amount of unwanted attention. He could probably get away with it....but that was even debatable now.

"Any ideas ladies?" Bill asked.

"We could put garbage bags over our heads?" Beatrix glanced to Elle. "It would take away from a large amount of….unappealing qualities."

Before the blood splattered willowy blonde could get a word in on that Beatrix stepped away from the wall and turned to Bill. Slender brows furrowed in further pondering. Her mind was drawing a blank. Usually after an assignment and everyone needed a good shower they were either close to the car or there were a large amount of back alley escape routes. None of these were an option. She shrugged casually. "We could wait till it gets dark. Which should be in…" Blue eyes side glanced to the entrance to the alley way. A large amount of sun was spilling in through the narrow buildings. "Three hours."

Bill smirked at Beatrix's "garbage bag" comment. That brought back memories. Elle just ignored Beatrix's snazzy little insult and crossed her arms over her bloody shirt. The tall blonde then spun around to stare at Beatrix, "Three hours? I don't want to hang out in some shitty alleyway for three hours!"

Bill shrugged, sitting down a set of concrete stairs. "Beatrix is right......we should just wait until its dark enough that we can get away with hiding a little blood. If the authorizes show up back here, well….then we split." He didn't seem all to phased to have to wait either, but it had to be done.

Elle glowered, and sat daintily down on a metal railing, her long legs crossing. "Goddamn....this is gunna suck...."

"It's not all that bad Elle," Bill scolded her, stretching out on the stairs, "It could be a lot worse......I could tell you some stories about just how worse things can be, I-"

"Just...save us...Bill," Elle held up a slim hand, pulling out her cigarettes in the process.

Bill shrugged again, "Hrm...suit yourself." He seemed fairly mellow. He'd only murdered a couple dozen people in the last twenty four hours after all.

Elle smoked. Bill smiled fondly at Beatrix. It started to get...slightly darker.

Beatrix had situated herself on the ground beneath the concrete stairs Bill was stretched out on. Her blonde head nonchalantly leaned back using his leg as a cushion. She didn't give a fuck that Elle was there. She had a minor head ache and Bill's leg was much better than stone hard concrete. The remainder of the two hours was spent in a good portion of silence. At one point Beatrix asked Bill to recollect what had transpired with the client. She enjoyed receiving the bloody details from him as much as he enjoyed receiving them from her after various assignments.

Elle didn't have much to say as she appeared too wrapped up in her cigarette, which was all well and good considering the company.

Finally the sun was peaking just below the horizon and a cool nights breeze was beginning to sweep through the alley way. Beatrix had nearly fallen asleep at one point but now she was 'resting' her eyes and thinking silently to herself of things she probably should just forget. Bill likewise had been nodding off a bit. The stairs were becoming mightily uncomfortable; Beatrix's head leaning against his leg was the only bright spot in the whole thing. He pushed himself up on his elbows, blinking away the grogginess that had settled in. His face wasn't feeling any better either, but it had at least partially numbed to a dull throbbing. Elle had pretty much been spacing out, watching the cars zoom by from the small opening between the two buildings. She was very good at just sorta, "checking out" and who knew what kind of shit was going through her mind.

Bill glanced at the darkening sky, "I'd call this good....." He stood up, helping Beatrix do the same...just out of courtesy.

Elle jumped off the railing, grimacing. "Shit...my ass is numb." Ignoring Elle, Bill straightened his attire, "Alright....no hooker walk Elle...button up your jacket." He glanced at Beatrix, and quickly removed his blazer, covering her bloodstained shirt with it. "Not exactly your style or fit Kiddo...but it will do." With that the three of them began making the trek back to their car...which was a good ten blocks or so.

Their 'frolic' through the park wasn't as amusing as earlier but at least the trio was able to get through without any further speculation from strangers. The car ride proceeded with little to no chatter. When the later hours of the car trip rolled around Beatrix volunteered to drive the remainder of the way. Bill looked uncomfortable and he wouldn't admit it was his facial wounds that were causing the trouble. So instead of him admitting it, she ruthlessly made him pull the car over and switch seats with her. Elle didn't say anything which was for the best considering neither Bill nor Bea wanted to be a passenger when Elle drove.

Beatrix was 'kind' and dropped Elle off at her apartment seeing Bill picked her up to begin with. Simple good-byes were exchanged and Beatrix drove off back to Bill's.


	14. Chapter 46

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning when the tall blonde warrior pulled into the desolate drive way of Bill's hacienda. She turned off the engine and blue eyes slowly moved over to Bill sitting in the passenger's seat.

A smile tugged at the sides of those pink shaded lips as she gingerly poked a hand at his shoulder to rustle him. "Bill, wake up."

Bill snapped awake, "Hrm?" He glanced over at Beatrix with a slightly hazy look. But the grogginess didn't last long, as he was used to having to often wake up very quickly. "Ah...." He looked at the familiar abode in the near distance. "Home sweet home..." His gaze returned to Beatrix who was watching him under the dim dashboard lighting. "That jacket really brings out your womanly figure...." he joked with a smirk, returning her gesture and prodding her playfully on the shoulder.

He had removed his tie hours ago and not surprisingly unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. This was a perpetual Bill mannerism, as if he just unconsciously couldn't help himself. He stretched in the partially tipped back seat and undid his seatbelt, "I've gotta put something on my face right away...." he grumbled, starting to get out of the car. He glanced at Beatrix, with a wicked grin, "Are you going to help me?" A chuckle, "Ya know...just in case my old age gets the better of me....and I fall.....and I can't get up?"

Beatrix laughed, pearly white exposed in a wide smile of amusement. "Of course, I wouldn't want you to fall." Still smiling she unbuckled and slipped out of the car. Before Bill could even take a step away from the car she rushed over to him and slipped her own arm under his own in a supportive manner. She was mocking his ass off and enjoying every minute of it. "Come on," she began moderate steps, supporting him, while she walked to the door.

Inside she settled him on the couch and went off to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer. At this particular moment she was ravishing over playing 'doctor'. It didn't take her long to come back over with a blue-gel-ice-pack wrapped in a dish towel. The tall blonde plopped down next to him, turned, and gingerly pressed the cool cloth against his bruising features. "Better?" She inclined with a raised brow.

She was mocking the hell out of him, but that didn't mean Bill wasn't enjoying every second of this. He had every intention of milking this situation as much as he could, to a point of course. He had spread himself out on the couch in a very all encompassing and manly style. He was now watching her intently as she preformed her doctoring duties. "Yes….somewhat better.....move it a little lower though......" He grimaced, "Yeah..there......" he flinched away from the ice pack. "Don't press on my face so hard....Christ woman.....ow...." Like most men Bill was a pain in the ass baby when like this. And now Beatrix was stuck with it until Bill tired of the game....which for the time being, was not looking like it was going to be anytime in the next hour or so....or not until both of them managed to doze off.

* * *

"Bill's in a bad mood," Nikishi offered this bit of...not so surprising information to Beatrix as she stood in the doorway. It had only been two days since they had paid Bill's former client, now...former living client, a little visit. Nikishi was becoming more sociable to Beatrix and thus more likely to reveal these little tid bits of information to the tall blonde before she entered the "lion's den" so to speak. She lowered her voice, "I do not think he is angry with you....but.....it is hard to tell." With a little nod, she then turned and went back to her duties.

Bill was leaning heavily on the living room bar, both of his hands clamped onto the marble edge of its surface, leg's kicked out at a far distance. He was obviously attempting to physically dispel whatever was pissing him off....with little success. He glanced at Beatrix over his shoulder with a dark glare when she entered, but remained silent. His days of utterly cruel opening zingers to her were long gone. He was past that.

After a moment, he straightened up, his expression not softening in the slightest. She was watching him with an imploring look and he knew it was best to just give in and reply. "I just.....had to turn down.........," he took a breath, "..a huge....huge assignment. We're talking the type of thing that comes along...maybe once a year. And the reason I had to turn down such said assignment...." he began pacing the living room, "....was because I was improperly....staffed to do so." He thrust his hands into his pockets, spinning to stalk the other side of the living room, "....I can't fucking believe my organization has reached this point......were I don't have enough assassins that can properly work together....to….fulfill a fucking assignment!" His hands flew out of his pockets into he air with frustration, "Twenty years Kiddo..." he turned and fixed her with a hard look, "....to come to this!" He knew that she knew he was referring to that in a professional capacity...not personal. Bill put a lot of pressure on himself to strive towards his impossibly set goals. And this was taking such a low plunge that he was having a hard time dealing with it. "Fuck!" He turned away to pace again.

Beatrix watched her 'boss' pass the living room with hard eyes and softened features. She more or less understood his dilemma and why he was angry. She was glad that he wasn't angry at her or at least not directly. Thus, she was implored to see eye to eye with him. Too an extent. Bill put a shitload of 'shit' into the making the DiVAS what it was today. Twenty years was put into creating one of the most effective and successful assassination groups in the world and now it was 'falling apart', so to speak. She could tell her boss in a professional manner to go find new members but that was like telling Bill to go find a nail in a pile of hay. One couldn't just go find members and hire them. She knew from hearing past stories from her associates how many fucking 'members' Bill went through before sticking with the five he had now. Budd was a no brainier but the rest of the members had to be properly 'hunted' down.

There were only so many people that could go on the types of assignments Bill assigned and not get killed during it. Not only did the assignments pose a challenge but actually working up to being sent on an assignment was a whole other game. If Bill thought a member was good enough he usually sent them to Pai Mei for a much more extensive training. One only knew how many backs were snapped like twigs before Bill gave up on that. When this type of training to see if one was good enough wasn't an option any more leaving the whole concept of acquiring new members an even harder.

All in all the options to fix this dilemma weren't celestial. The tall blonde took a step towards him but kept a good distance between them. She was well aware that no one could get along during an assignment because of her. She licked her lips and began in a cool and leveled tone voice, "All of this shit started because you and I fucked." Blue eyes coated over with a serious glint. "I'm not regretting the after-math," Beatrix never regretted, she could question her decisions but that didn't go far either. "…And I know you aren't. Which leads me to believe with my full confidence that you will find a way around it. But…finding a way around may be…messier than past problems."

Bill's face, which still retained a good amount of cuts and bruises from the other day...which did nothing to help his fearsome look, remained unchanged in expression……although, he could tell that Beatrix could understand why he was angry...something which he did appreciate. Yet, this did nothing to help his current situation...if only it could. She was right of course. Most of this had started because he and Beatrix had decided to succumb to their feelings for one another. They were both ultimately all too human and like all actions, this had caused a reaction. Sleeping with Beatrix was probably the thing Bill would be least likely to ever regret, which in fact...he regretted little or nothing in his life to begin with. So, thus that wasn't the issue...and again she was right he had to find a way around it. She had the utmost confidence in him...that, at the moment, Bill wasn't feeling very strongly. And yes, whatever solution this "problem" entailed....it was not going to be as neat as he would have liked.

This current lineup of the Vipers had been ideal.....it had been Bill's epitome of the organization, an organization that had been his "life's work" so to speak. Up until the point of the Deadly Viper Association, Bill had generally worked for somebody else...in one capacity or another. Now, he was the boss....he was "the man".....and, despite all his efforts, the Vipers were crumbling. He would never go back to working for somebody else, and thus the dissolving of the Viper's was looking to be the end of his "career" at least...in its current form.

Bill spun around, anger far from abated, "I appreciate the vote of confidence Kiddo.....I really do.....but this is fucking ridiculous!" It seemed even Beatrix's rational words weren't helping him for the moment. "I can't believe this.........." he paused, fury rising, "...this is happening!" He spun around the other way, pacing in the opposite direction, shoulders set in an angry line. He grumbled something unintelligible to himself, fingers curling with a restrained effort not to completely lash out. More than anything it was frustrating because the catalyst for most of this happening was something that made him happier than he'd ever been. It was ironic, in a very, very frustrating sort of way.

Bill rounded the corner of the living room; silent and glaring...which was usually a worse sign then him yelling. He needed to get this out, somehow.... His furious glare did a quick sweep of the immediate area, and then without really thinking he snatched up the fuzzy iridescent pink bear that had lovingly been sitting next to his Hanzo sword ever since that one fateful night. The object was grabbed at random, but there was a strange irony in this...seeing as this bear partially led to the series of events that had put Bill in this current professional position. With one vicious movement, he tore the head of the bear away from the rest of its pink body. A sharp tearing noise ensued. It didn't take much to do this. A small amount of puffy white stuffing came floating out. "GODDAMNIT!" Bill shouted, the two pieces of Julio now clutched in his hands. He spun and threw the head at the bar, the body he simply just threw to the ground. He spun back around, breathing angrily out of his nose; rather unaware of what he'd done....it was the simple matter of destroying something....and that something had just happened to be easy to spot. He threw himself onto the couch, slouching there with a brooding dark cloud almost visibly hanging over his head.

Beatrix had been watching this whole display with high raised eyebrows. She knew he was angry and for logical reasons and she had tried to 'calm' him down. She knew calming him down was impossible so she had tried rational words and that only seemed to spark the flames. She watched his angered stomping through the living room with placid eyes matching her façade. But when he went and tore of the fucking head of the bear her façade and blue eyes hardened. Beatrix knew that too was out of anger but he so ironically had to choose Julio as his target? At least he didn't pull her head off. But with Bill it was hard to tell.

The tall blonde casually sauntered around the bar, leaned down, and picked up the decapitated teddy bear head. She came back to her full height and stared at the head of a pink bear with big bulging cartoon eyes. It was so ironic. This was indirect anger towards her and what happened. It was all her fault the Vipers were going downhill. That pissed her off. She kept that same casual demeanor and walked back to the couch.

She stood a foot away staring at her 'man' with frozen over blue eyes. Beatrix then ruthlessly pulled back her arm that was clutching the bear's pink head and threw it at him. The bear head hit directly at the side of his head and bounced back to the floor. The blonde just stood there partially irate and silent.

Bill stared up at Beatrix for a couple very long seconds, looking more stunned than anything. He appeared to have snapped out of whatever had taken over him.....of course, that wasn't to say he wasn't angry anymore.

"What the fuck was that for?" He snarled, eyes piercing into the tall blonde. Bill's eyes then dropped to the floor, where the silly looking decapitated bear head now sat motionless. His frown deepened, brows knitting together as he came to the explanation to his own recently posed answer. After a moment of looking pensive, he bent down and picked up the lone head in his hand. A few small bits of stuffing trickled out as he brought it up to eyelevel. He stared at it intensely, and then lifted his gaze up to Beatrix, mouth still set in a grumpy frown. "That wasn't intentional symbolism," he said softly, eyes softening just a tad as well.

"I know. I felt like throwing something at you," she casually lied. Beatrix was aware it was unintentional but she couldn't help feel that somewhere subconsciously it had been intentional. Every single action one performed had a reason no matter the insignificance of the gesture.

Such as; her walking back over to him and plopping down next to him was a subconscious gesture to dissipate her own anger and work on his. She reached over and snatched the teddy bear head from his hand. More bits of stuffing began to liter the flooring. Beatrix then leaned back and held the head in her lap, slender brows narrowed assessing it. "Suppose I should be thankful that wasn't my head," she commented with a touch of civil sarcasm. Blue eyes still dropping a few degrees below zero slid over to the man beside her. Her mouth partially opened but closed quickly. She wasn't sure what to say to him. It was hard to comfort Bill when it came to things 'professional' but she had to admit even when it wasn't professional Bill wasn't an easy person to comfort nor resolve.

Bill knew he was a hard person to be around when was like this...well harder than he normally was to be around. He wasn't going to make amends for him being a bastard....even to his "gal." She knew what he was like, and she sure as hell could handle it. He didn't see anything deeper in his decapitation gesture than a simple need to let out a little steam on something inanimate. Of course, Beatrix certainly had the right to speculate on that one.

Bill continued to frown, which didn't mean much coming from him. He often frowned when he was happy. Leaning back, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He hadn't been doing his normal morning meditation sessions for a few days, and he could feel the effects of that neglecting, most pointedly right now. "I would never....rip your head off Kiddo...." he grumbled, eyes still closed. Either he hadn't caught on to her sarcasm, or he was attempting to throw in a touch of dark humor into the mix. "I just......need to.........sit here for a moment........." his voice dropped into that calming almost melodic tone.

He had to sort all of this out, and being furious was a very unwise state of mind to be in when attempting to do that. He could feel Beatrix's much more calm energy next to him and tried to feed off some of that. Bill knew he had a tendency too........overreact at times and what he'd just done could perhaps qualify....although it had been far more tame than most of his previous..."overreactions." He needed to get back in his normal state of mind. He was coolly clever and sadistic, not irrational and out of control. He let out another deep breath, finally opening his eyes. A good amount of his anger had obviously vanished....but certainly was not completely gone.

He glanced over at Beatrix, "Well...it appears Julio has joined his namesake...." a hint of a smirk.

While Bill had undergone his 'meditation' of sorts she had been staring off into vacant space. Her thoughts ran wild but into no particular area leaving her with an easy exit back to reality. She slowly turned her head and a placid smile curved across her face. "It appears so."

Beatrix gave another glance at the teddy bear head. She really did like that stupid bear, too bad it was going in the trash. Leaning her head back once more she let it slip to the side and nestle on Bill's shoulder. She wanted to give him reassuring words that everything would work out but she knew that was a lost cause. She'd be wasting her breath so she went with lame sarcasm, "Are you better now or would you like me to get you another stuffed animal to rip apart?"

Bill turned and gave Beatrix a sly smile, "I'm fine......and...besides, good luck finding another stuffed animal in this entire house." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, staring straight ahead in thought. He knew he had to let it go, and put it behind him if wanted to deal with whatever was to come in a rational manner.

Blinking away the last vestiges of that dangerously leveled anger, Bill propped his feet up on the coffee table...something that very few people could get away with without being told to immediately take them off. He reached over and picked up the TV remote, clicking it on. His hand near Beatrix's head idly toyed with her hair in that familiar unconscious gesture.

"I think they are having a Chuck Norris movie marathon one of one those....'for guys' cable channels right now," he said conversationally, as he flipped through the ridiculous amount of satellite television channels. He stopped finally, "Ah..here we go...," a chuckle, "...Delta Force....this is classic stuff Kiddo...." He grinned at her, his hand lifting off her hair to tweak her ear, "...pay close attention to the terrible fighting chorography and the even worse acting..."

And just like that....Bill had gone from one side of the spectrum to the other. The rest of the day was spent in bad action movie reviewing bliss.


	15. Paris

The next day Bill informed Beatrix, as well as the rest of the remaining Vipers that he was going out of town for a few days on "business." But, seeing as Beatrix's birthday was likewise only a few days away, the whole thing sounded a little suspicious. Either way, Bill did leave for two days to an unknown location.

He returned on the morning of the third day…..Beatrix's birthday, naturally.

It was just six in the morning, barely light out at this time of year. The sky was a deep, slowly lightening velvet blue. Bill was driving his black Jaguar JX....custom model of course. It was a beautiful car, sleek...not a sports car, but much more of a luxury sedan...leather interior, GPS....the works. Well, anyways...Bill loved this car to put it mildly. He made his way at a respectable speed to Beatrix's apartment complex. The numerous night spotlights were on, illuminating the parking lot and the multiple leveled complex. Once he neared the parking lot, Bill turned off the headlights of his car, killed the engine and coasted the car into the lot very quietly.

Likewise, he softly shut the car door and walked up to the front of Beatrix's apartment in well practiced stealthy steps. He was wearing jeans, black tennis shoes.and a button up shirt of course....but he was dressed more casual then normal. He stopped in front of Beatrix's door, standing on the concrete landing. It would be normal to knock...but that wasn't part of Bill's plan. Instead, he moved to the rectangular window placed near the front door. And just like he had done just a few days before, he proceeded to remove the window with a small pocket tool. As stated previously, Bill knew how to perform just about every illegal skill there was to know. He'd even cat burgled a good number of houses in his younger years. He'd taken notice of this window before, just as he'd taken notice of just about everything in Beatrix's cozy apartment. He knew this particular window would be a snap. He glanced briefly around the parking lot...not a soul around. Needless to say, this wouldn't look even remotely innocent too a bystander. Pleased hat nobody was watching him, he bent his head and continued his work. Two minutes later, he carefully removed the inside frame and then the glass...lying each of them down against the side of the apartment. With one more glance around, he crawled inside the now wide open window, again careful to be quiet. Once inside, he bent back outside and carefully brought the window parts into the confines of the living room. He drew the curtains over the open window to make it appear more inconspicuous. Turning towards the dark apartment, Bill made his way down the hallway towards Beatrix's bedroom...his feet making barely any sound. Reaching the partially shut wood door, he slowly opened it. Of course she was still asleep; Beatrix being up at six in the morning was rather incomprehensible, he'd planned on that after all. But he had to be careful, she was a killer and it wouldn't take much for her to snap awake and pull that 22 caliber pistol out from under pillow, which Bill knew she had, and shoot him without much hesitation. She could do it in a simple matter of seconds.

He slowly and silently crept across the room, the very dim lighting throwing enough light on his face to reveal an amused and sneaky expression. Reaching the end of her bed, he ever so gently began climbing down it. Beatrix was sleeping on her side, hands curled under her shoulder. Like the snake he was, Bill slithered up along her side that was facing away from him....extremely careful not to jostle or touch her in any way. Bill was extremely good at this deliberate physical drama. As he was doing this, he reached a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and removed a packet of papers. Once he was right behind her, he slowly reached over her shoulder and set the packet on the sheets a few inches from her face. Then, he gently laid down, now chest to back with her. Still making sure she wasn't going to suddenly wake up and maul him in some cruel manner, he wrapped his leg over the top of both of her bent knees as his arm encircled both of her arms. This was as intimate as it was for his own physical protection. If anybody could successfully break in and sneak up on Beatrix Kiddo, it was Bill.

Knowing his embrace would wake her up; Bill dipped his head into the crook of her neck, giving the area a few kisses. She smelt great. "Mmm...you'd better wake up baby...." he murmured in her ear, "I think somebody is breaking into your apartment."

Indeed that did wake up Beatrix. Her eye lids shot open and an attempt to sit up was restrained which only brought her to struggle fiercely. "What the fuck?" She growled. The tall blonde was about to put more leverage into her struggling when Bill put another kiss on the back of her head. No burglar would kiss her like that. She ceased her movement in an instant of realization but her muscles remained tense.

"Goddammit, Bill," she stated with an exasperated breath. She felt like her heart had jumped onto the floor and began flapping around. It would be Bill and only Bill who could do that to her; make a rather sneaky entrance and scare the fucking shit out of her in the process.

She stayed locked down in his embrace for a few long seconds in an attempt to calm herself. It wasn't every day someone snuck up on her while she was asleep. It didn't take long for her to gain back her composure and the humor of the event began to sink in. A sly smirk tugged at her lips. A curious glance was given to the packet by her face but seeing she couldn't move her fucking arms she ceased the curiosity and said, "Well baby, I do hope you killed the fucker for me before he could steal anything."

Bill chuckled heartily, endlessly amused by her reaction to all of this. He seemed at his best when things involved some amount of freight to them. And seeing Beatrix get the shit scared out of her was extremely amusing.....all in good fun of course. "Oh yes...." he said with relish, "He's quite dead now....I made sure to do it nice and clean though, to keep the integrity of your little cozy surroundings intact." Another amused chuckle. Knowing she wasn't going to kill him, well...there still was a slim chance of that but he was willing to take the chance, he then lifted the pressure off of her limbs. He remained lying closely behind her. "You really should look into a more secure apartment." he teased, unable to help himself. Of course, if he had been anybody but him, she would have ruthlessly disposed of him. Who needed a secure house when you were a trained killer? On the other hand, he probably couldn't have gotten away with that with any other woman than Beatrix. Any other woman would not find much amusement in the whole thing and would most likely tell him to get the fuck out after she'd screamed her head off.

He propped himself up on an elbow, setting his chin on Beatrix's shoulder he smiled slyly down at her.

Beatrix shifted her head position so she could side glance him without straining her neck. Her own echoes of a sly smile lingered in her demeanor. "You," she moved her arms out from under her and stretched them out to the side to relief cramps. "…are a sadistic fuck." Words stated with the utmost sarcasm but lingering on truth. She could have just as easily called him a bastard and it would have held the same meaning. Her arms flopped back down to her sides and her hand nonchalantly landed on the packet. A soft crinkle of paper against bedding was heard and blue eyes shifted.

Long white fingers gripped the side of the packet which vaguely reminded her of assignment folders and brought it up to eye level. "I am going to be highly pissed off at you if this is what I think it is," she stated her voice lingering on the edge of turning dry. She held the paper up higher, to Bill's face, and indifferently popped it against his nose.

Just as Beatrix found being called a "cunt" strangely enduring, thus so did Bill when it came to being called a "sadistic fuck." He merely chuckled, his attention more focused on Beatrix's finding of the packet of papers. He smiled, after she popped him in the nose with the packet, "It's not an assignment......I'm hardly that cruel," he assured with a raised eyebrow, "Just open it...." he prompted her in a softer voice.

Bill knew he could have easily bought her any damn thing she wanted: jewelry, a car, a house...all of that shit. But likewise, he knew that Beatrx didn't give a damn about those sorts of things. What Beatrix wanted and needed was happiness. He realized that now......that every nice thing in the world meant nothing when compared to being happy and content. He had thought about this for sometime and realized that what Beatrix wanted and needed....even if she hadn't of really voiced it, was too get away....just for awhile. She needed to be someplace far away and feel happy with herself, with him...with the world in general. So...then it was matter of locale. Bill thought about that one for awhile as well. It had to be somewhere that nether of them had been...someplace fresh to both of them...which in Bill's case was not a hell of a lot of places. Also, someplace.........romantic......

And thus, when Beatrix opened the packet, what fell out was nothing more, nothing less, than two round trip first class tickets to Paris. "Happy Birthday Kiddo," Bill said with a grin, intently watching her reaction.

Upon opening the packet and revealing the tickets her eyes lit up and a smile dominated her features. She effortlessly flipped over so she was now face to face with Bill and she leaned and gave him an exceptionally loving kiss. It didn't last long as she came to sit up, legs bent to her chest, hands secularly wrapped around the tickets and blue eyes continued to stare at the simple pieces of paper.

Such a gift could mean a lot to any women. Talk about sappy. Bringing the person you loved to the most romantic place in the world. That idea didn't occur, well, she registered it but what made the whole 'gift' really count and made Beatrix happy was it was far away. Paris was somewhere were they wouldn't have to worry about any thing and just enjoy the atmosphere. She could be happy and that was rare for her. Really fucking happy. She spared a glance to Bill before going back to staring at the tickets. She didn't need to tell him thank you, anyone could tell by her bright smile and shining blue eyes how happy she was.

Her brows narrowed on the flight departure. "Two hours doesn't give me much time to pack," she stated lightly. Most of the time Beatrix didn't give a shit about packing. She had to get packing in itself down to a science were she could throw a considerable amount of clothes into a bag in under five minutes. But this time she wanted to put actual 'thought' into what she was going to bring and wear. Thus was typical character trait of just about any female.

Bill watched Beatrix with a small smile as she went through these phases of reaction. It was a beautiful sight. The look on her face made it all worth it.......in fact....to Bill, it was worth more than two plane tickets would ever cost. She looked.....extremely happy...and it made him look forward too more of that happiness. He loved it when she smiled like that....large blue eyes dancing, even in the dim early morning light. "Yeah...sorry about that," Bill replied to her departure comment, "It's just the way it worked out best......." He knew Beatrix was used to packing in record speed. But he caught her furrowed brow, "We can get there in time......if we leave here in half an hour." He had the utmost confidence in his speedy driving. Of course he was already set to go, his luggage stowed away in the trunk of the Jaguar. He laid back down sprawling out on his back, "I bet you can put together a snazzy repertoire of outfits in thirty minutes Kiddo..." he gave her a well meaning smirk, "While your doing that.......I'm going to take a little nap." Bill hadn't slept more than two hours since he had gotten back around midnight and he was starting to feel a little groggy. He settled back against her pillow, hands lacing behind his head as she got up to start packing.

Thirty minutes didn't seem like that long as Beatrix rummaged through her drawers and closets after Bill fell asleep but when ten minutes rolled around and she had all her necessities laid out she began to wonder. She gave her 'repertoire of outfits' a sweeping second look before she neatly stuffed her duffle bag. Once she was through with a good twenty minutes to spare she took the next step; getting dressed. She stifled an amused laugh at herself thinking she had everything done. She had to admit her mind was fuzzy and that five minutes jump in-jump out shower was just what she needed to clear it up. She then put on a pair of jeans, black fitting tank top, and a zip-up hoodie to go over as the temperature on a plane could be either fucking cold or slaughtering hot.

Now she was ready. Beatrix, still holding that prominent glimmer in her eyes and thin smile she almost literally bounced onto the bed. That movement would be enough to rustle anyone. "Oh, baby, get up," she cooed with coated mockery. "We're gonna be late if you don't get your ass up soon.."

Bill made a grumbling noise, "Alright......." With a somewhat overdramatic scowl he pulled himself up, knowing Beatrix had enjoyed that, especially after how he'd woken her up this morning. "We're getting coffee on the way...." he mumbled following her out of the room. From a quick glance at her duffel bag, it could be ascertained she'd packed pretty light....which was good, Bill preferred as little luggage as possible. He took a few minutes to properly put her window back in, during which time Beatrix no doubtfully watched him with a slight glare. Once they were good to go, Beatrix locked her apartment and loaded her duffel into the trunk alongside Bill's similarly sized bag.

With that, they were off. Bill drove rather quickly and cursing at the sight of the traffic in outer San Diego, took a back route to the airport. The airport wasn't all that crowded, seeing as most people didn't enjoy such early flights. It was dominated mostly by traveling businessmen.

The super yuppie and far too expensive Starbucks booth was the first stop. After that check in and all the usual stuff went without a hitch. Of course, the two killers were using false identities. They had to take a flight to New York first, which was standard in most European flights and after that it was a straight shot to Paris. It was a rather long flight, over ten hours. But, for once, Bill didn't seem to mind. He was doing his best to stay in good spirits, for Beatrix, for himself....

Coffee's in hand, they both settled down in the first class cabin, just minutes before takeoff. So far, everything had been perfect. Bill made a quick scan of the passengers sitting in first class around them, thankfully no kids. Kids on planes drove him fucking nuts. "I hope we get some of those swank cheese and cracker baskets," he whispered into Beatrix's ear. Bill always traveled first class, and those baskets were pretty much a staple. He asked for a paper and immediately received one and glanced at Beatrix with a warm smile before settling in to read it.

Beatrix returned the smile and settled into reading the latest Guns and Ammo magazine she'd picked up at the newspaper stand in the airport lobby. The flight was long and enduring and there were only so many guns she could look at without getting the urge to shoot something. At a point the flight attendant came around handing out head phones for the on flight movie. Beatrix eagerly bought a pair. The movie was a corny teeny-bobber flick with the high priced celebrities that didn't know what the fuck they were doing being in that type of film as it was below them. Either way she put up with it and watched. During the movie they did indeed come around with the cracker and cheese basket. Bill was delighted, it was kind of funny. With the basket came a turkey sandwich and a salad that were both editable. The best part was the mini chocolate with nuts in it.

Finally the captain came over the loud speaker indicating their soon to be arrival in New York. One flight down one to go. Beatrix hoped the movie would be more entertaining. Putting her seat up from reclining she glanced to Bill. "Have fun?" She asked with a questionably raised brow.

"Indeed I did," Bill replied with a smirk, his paper and delightful cheese and cracker basket long put aside. He'd actually been sleeping most of the later part of the flight, as people in the cabin were being relatively quiet….apparently most of them watching the horrid looking movie that had been showing. It was a rather pathetic silence, since according to the in flight menu, it was supposed to be a comedy. Bad sign. After sleeping for sometime, Bill had leafed through the stack of magazines the stewardess had been happily handing out. He was irritated that Beatrix had ended up with the Guns and Ammo. Instead, he was stuck with Men's Journal and GQ...both which offered some amount of entertainment, but he didn't consider either of them all that enjoyable. Luckily, the first leg of the flight was coming to a close. And the international flights were always roomier. It was just a matter of dealing with the changing of planes.

But, even that went smoothly...to Bill's surprise, he and Beatrix found themselves seated in an even nicer and much larger 777 within the hour. Even though the plane was bigger, there were far less people on this flight, allowing them to spread out a little more. It turned out that a very annoying group of snobby French women were seated behind them. This irritated Bill to no end and he began speaking in Japanese to Beatrix, just to spite and confuse the women. His vocabulary of Japanese swear words was broad and nasty, and after sometime it became something of a game to see if he could make Beatrix laugh or not with his vulgar interjections.

There was another movie, something long, boring and historical looking....Bill didn't even bother with it. The food was quite good and far more European than the last round on the earlier flight. The hours wore on, the lights in the cabin were dimmed so people could sleep if needed. At some point, Bill rebelliously undid his seat belt and spread across the trio of seats, allowing Beatrix more than enough room to use him as a proper cushion. Now, in a much more comfortable position, he found it easier to nod off and spent the rest of the flight and the night...pretty much like that. He was awakened only by the sound of the captain's voice on the speaker informing them in both French and English that they would soon be landing in Paris. It was hard to tell what time of day it was due to the confusing blur of time zone skips. But the light pouring in through the windows looked afternoon-ish

Beatrix had to admit she enjoyed the second flight much better then the first. As the flight came to a full stop and the cabin doors opened the few people gathered on the flight began to pile out. Beatrix grabbed up the small shoulder messenger bag she brought on the plane to carry needless necessities and walked down the narrow terminal, followed closely by Bill.

The airport itself was bustling with people. There were mostly tourists looking at maps and trying to find their luggage as well as checking into customs. More or less it was a mad house and one could easily get lost. Seeing it was so crowded, Beatrix nonchalantly took Bill's hand and walked in such a manner to baggage claim. The baggage had yet to arrive and the tall blonde had situated herself up against a large pillar as Bill stood close by the rail that delivered the baggage. As she stood there, arms crossed over her chest she noticed that 'welcome parties' were making the rounds. This was usually the case in places like Hawaii but it seemed France was catching on. At least there were no flower necklaces.

A welcome party unwelcomely came in Beatrix's direction. She tried to slump over and appear uninterested or lost in thought. Her attempts failed.

"Bonjour mademoiselle!" Was the thick accent of a French man dressed in a snazzy black suit and a name tag that read 'Hello my name is John-Luke' with an accent on the e and u. John Luke was followed closely by a tall French woman that reminded Beatrix of Sofie. This immediately had 'bad' written all over it. She shifted from one foot to the other and gave a sharp nod.

"Are you 'ere on business or pleasure?" The Sofie-look-alike asked in the same thickened accent.

"Pleasure," Beatrix replied bluntly but put on a fake smile of welcome. A fleeting glance was given to Bill whom was now inspecting the row of bags that began to come by in hopes of spotting their own.

"Ah pleasure, oui! That is good. You are here with your…" John-Luke glanced at the man he had seen the woman direct attention too. He pursed his lips. "You're père?"

The blonde's eyes went wide and she laughed. "Oh no. Absolument pas," her French wasn't as fluent as her Japanese but she knew how to say 'absolutely not' or hell no. The idea was humorous. John-Luke nodded and this seemed to turn him away. Good thing. Bill her father, shit that was funny. She'd have to find the appropriate time to mock him with that idea. Still snickering to herself she came up behind Bill and wrapped her arms around his neck. She put a kiss on cheek. "I like Paris," she whispered idly in his ear.

Bill smiled, turning his head to the side to gaze fondly at Beatrix under hooded eyes. There it was, that truly happy look on her face. "I'm very glad you do...." he whispered back, a hand squeezing her shoulder affectionately. No French "welcoming parties" had attempted to pester Bill. Maybe there was just something about the way he looked that warranted him to be easily left alone by strangers. His French was actually pretty terrible, and if he was approached he planned on simply saying "merde" and leaving it at that. It didn't take too long for Bill to round up their small amount of luggage, which he gentlemanly insisted he carry all of. Once they got outside the airport, there were literally dozens of taxi's just waiting to pick up and then rip off all of the awaiting tourists. Thus, it took them very little time to get a taxi and get loaded up.

The hotel they were staying at, the Hotel Royal Saint Michel wasn't too far away...and any amount of time delay was because of the amazing amount of traffic in Paris. Tiny European cars and scooters were zooming everywhere. Bill was instantly interested in the complete lack of traffic control. Everyone just seemed to be driving everywhere.....it was chaos, but somehow it worked. They were dropped off at their hotel. Bill gave the driver a large enough amount of money, which he'd exchanged to proper currency already, to make the man not bother to bicker with them.

The Hotel Royal Saint Michel was a four star hotel and quite old. It was beautiful, taking up nearly an entire Paris block and standing at ten stories. The outside was decorated in a very Romanesque style architecture. Inside, everything was upscale and extremely posh. It was ideal upper class tourist hotel, being right in the middle of Paris and still retaining a good amount of that old French style. Bill confirmed the reservations, again, under fake names. Thankfully all the employees there spoke English in some form or another, since Bill was pretty sure he couldn't do much with his weak French skills. Beatrix proved to be more adept than himself.

Finally, they were shown up to their room by a young uniformed hotel employee, who carried their bags for them. The room, like the hotel was very nice. It was large and tastefully decorated. It was fancy but not over the top so. There was a large balcony off the classic style windows that looked over the bustling Paris streets. Before Bill fully inspected everything he tipped the bellhop and then turned to Beatrix to see if she approved.

Beatrix more then approved, she loved it. The way the room was textured with various authentic architecture, paintings, the soft colors, plush carpet, television, bathroom with a hot tub and shower, and a large canopy bed. Bill knew how to spoil a woman, or his woman. Not that Beatrix was the one to turn into a 'spoiled brat' but she had to let herself indulge a little. The temptation was all too much to avoid.

She gave him a fierce nod of approval and a smile that hadn't fully left her lips since they arrived. "It's beautiful," she stated with a soft lingering state of awe. She idly sauntered over to the large bed with the comforter that looked like it should be in one of those olden time mansions and sat down.

She shifted on the bed and snatched up the room service menu from the bed and flipped through it. "How long did it take you to find it?" A curious question or just a question to fill empty space. She was well aware of all of the contacts Bill had…..Bill had contacts to find other contacts. It probably didn't take him much longer then a week, tops.

"Two days," Bill admitted with a look of satisfaction, more from her look of enthusiastic approval then his own achievement, "An old friend of mine told me about it....." he sauntered over to her, hands in his pockets, "...he told me it was the best hotel in the city." He glanced around, "I must admit.....he was right....." It looked like the sort of place that belonged in Venice as much as it did Paris.....romantic historical meets modern discretion. Bill had been worried that Beatrix would find everything too over the top, but he was pleasantly surprised to find out it was indeed just in that right medium area. He wanted to spoil her, not smother her in tasteless adorations.

He gave the large bed a raised eyebrow, but kept whatever thought he had associated with it to himself....for the moment. Sitting down next to Beatrx, he looked closely over her shoulder as she leafed through the room service menu. It proved to offer a large selection of wines, other alcoholic products, authentic French foods, slightly cheaper more touristy French foods and a couple non-French style dishes as well. There was even non-food items like silk bathrobes, luxury bath products and massagers....which made one wonder a bit, but a big hotel had to cater to all sorts. More than satisfied with the menu, Bill stood and walked over to the large set of French double doors. Opening them, he stepped out onto the good sized balcony. After a moment of taking in the full view, he glanced over his shoulder at her, "Kiddo....you've got to check out this view....it's spectacular.....," a tone of true astonishment had crept into his voice, which was rather rare coming from Bill.

Beatrix slide off the bed and walked over to join Bill on the balcony. Her mouth parted in an expression of awe as blue eyes swept over the scenery. It was spectacular. She could only recall visiting France once and she was far from Paris seeing that it was an assignment but even then she could taste the essence of beauty the country held. Seeing Paris like this out did it.

Paris would be her second favorite place compared to Japan, which she had also yet to visit.

Their view consisted of the streets below, a town square type of area with numerous stores that were decorated in an authentic European style. Various venders selling miscellaneous items, street shows, all in the middle of a magnificent wishing fountain. Her arms folded on top of the railing as she viewed the sights down below.

"Very nice view selection, Bill." She turned her head to side to look at him with a placid smile. "I'm sure it took a lot of….chatting to acquire such a view."

Bill had been to a hell of allot of places in his life, many of them quite beautiful and exotic, but he had to admit even he was not unsusceptible to the charms of Paris. There was no denying the allure of the Old World style meets the super chic. It was sophisticated, ancient and strange all at once. There was a wonderful mix of sounds floating up the balcony of cars, street vendors and music. He returned Beatrix's smile, "I have my ways," he said smoothly. Indeed, his "old friend" has really come through on this one. He gave himself a mental note to thank him later for the brilliant recommendation, not to mention the room number with the most ideal view.

Bill wrapped an arm around Beatrix's shoulders, "So.....where to first? There's the typical tourist stuff....the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre....the Seine...or we can just go walk around see what kind we find?" Honestly, Bill didn't have much of a preference, he was happy just to be here with her and to see her so happy. They could probably just go sit and curb and eat cheese or something and he'd be perfectly content. Then again, it would be a shame not to see a place both of them were new to. He kissed her on the temple, "Whatever you want Kiddo, I'm game for. It's your birthday after all....well; at least...it was..." The time zone jump had thrown everything off, but the concept still applied.

She laughed lightly. She had almost forgotten the entire change of time and now that she realized it she could feel the effects on her body. There was so much to see and do in Paris she had no idea where to start. She pursed her lips and canted her head down to stare at the street once more. "Let's just walk and find somewhere to eat. I don't know about you but I can't live off of cheese and crackers." A playful grin in his direction as she pushed off the balcony and sauntered back inside.

"Sounds good," Bill agreed with a smile and after taking a few minutes to pack up the small amount of things they might want while walking, the two set out on the streets.

As expected, there were tourists everywhere, perhaps more than native Parisians...but, if anything, this proved to be entertaining: a group of Japanese schoolgirls ran down the street excitedly, cameras in hand, stupid obnoxious typical American sorts were everywhere, a small huddle of Muslims, well dressed Italians, couples very obviously on their honeymoon, the elderly.....indeed, a broad range of people. It was easy to forget who you were in this sort of place, and perhaps that was the sort of thing Bill and Beatrix needed, as the killers were easily swept along with the rest of the crowd.

There was a good amount of window shopping to be done at the cities enormous amount of shops. Neither of them found the cheesy tourist places all that appealing, but there were a few nicer places that sold artwork and nice more traditional gifts. There were also street musicians on almost every corner and Bill stopped a number of times to listen to a few of them. He even tipped a couple of them quite nicely.

At some point, Bill pulled out a camera he'd apparently toted along. As known, Bill's photography skills weren't ideal, but he insisted he bring it along anyways. He got Beatrix to take a picture of him standing next to a statue of Napoleon, which...for some reason Bill thought was really funny. He snapped a few candid pictures of Beatrix, a number of them she was giving that trademark, "don't take a picture of me you bastard" look, this only egged Bill on to do it more. He even attempted to be "artistic" and shoot some weirdly angled shots. He would find out later, once he got the pictures developed, they didn't turn out as well as he had thought.

Beatrix looked so happy, and he couldn't but be effected by that shinning smile and bright eyes. He clutched onto her hand with affectionate protection as they chatted amiably, laughing at the funny and often inane sights around them. Then they'd be struck by something rather stunning, a building, or a particular sight and they'd both stop and grow quite serious for the moment. For once, Bill was not constantly paddling on about the history or culture of the place....since he knew very little about Paris or its history. He found the whole Bastille thing interesting, and decided that they should visit it at some point during their visit. Leave it to Bill to find a stormed prison highly interesting.

Eventually, as it was nearing dusk, they were both too hungry to keep going and ducked into a nice looking restaurant.

Beatrix was anxious to try authentic French cuisine. For an appetizer she insisted they order that fried escargot shit. She tried it and allowed Bill to have the rest. She was never one for seafood, Sushi, but not snails. For the main courses they each ordered their own and planned to steal bites from one another.

She loved everything about the day. The whole atmosphere had put her in a state of mind where she completely forgot about the reality back home. She wasn't on assignment, she didn't have to watch her back, although she always kept on alert out of habit but at times she faltered, and she let herself go. Fork in hand she was idly twirling up a swirl of pasta. "I'd like to try wine tasting," she stated after one conversation topic ended. She knew the wines in France were exquisite but she also knew her tolerance for alcohol. She gave Bill a look to keep the zingers to himself.

Bill raised an eyebrow at Beatrix's request. He was pleasantly surprised by her idea actually.....but he knew her rather....weak tolerance for wine. He caught her look, and surpassed a smirk, instead taking his time to cut up the fish fillet on his plate, "Then, we shall go wine tasting," he smiled at her, very happy with the idea. "But...I suggest we do that tomorrow....it's getting late in the day and to properly wine test, you need to be able to take your time and savor the moment." He paused, considering the idea, "When we get back to the hotel I'll inquire about a good winery." There were a number of wineries in the areas surrounding Paris, and it was an easy little bus ride to do so. Of course, they could do wine tasting in the city, but Bill would not have that.....at a winery was the ideal way to do it, and he was always about the ideal. "And that way," he continued, the smirk creeping back on his face, "I can have you easily transported back to the hotel...if need be." He chuckled, reaching across the table to poke her nose with a breadstick.

After they had finished dinner, they decided to take the scenic route back to the hotel...taking their time walking along the cobblestone edge of the Seine. There were many people out doing the same thing, seeing as the Seine was rather beautiful at nighttime. The super romantic sorts were floating down the river in small gondola type boats and there were all sorts of coffee houses open along the river. They both decided they had to try some real Parisian coffee and stopped in to get them to go.

Walking along slowly, coffee in hand, his other arm wrapped around Beatrix's elbow, Bill couldn't help but contently smile. "I'm glad we did this...." he said softly, gaze fixated on the gently rippling water.

"Of course you are." She tipped the coffee cup in his direction before chugging down a sip. She had made a note to herself to buy some before they left for her coffee maker at home. This indicated that she found the coffee delicious and she didn't even put that much sugar or cream in it to make it taste better. She covered her smile behind the rim of her coffee cup as they paused to look out over the canal. Blue eyes watched as gondola floated by with a couple immersed in PDA while the peddler stroked. Beatrix canted her head to the side and settled her coffee cup on the railing. "We should do that too," she said absentmindedly to him and herself.

Bill wasn't sure if she was being serious about the gondola thing, but he stored it away as a possible thing to do while they were here. It seemed a little cheesy, but then again.........this was Paris, one of the few places in the world where you were almost expected to do those sorts of things. He gave her a positive nod and smile before they turned away to continue walking.

They soon continued onwards and eventually came back to the hotel room. Beatrix hadn't realized how exhausted she was once they entered their hotel room. She disposed of her coffee and immediately took first dibs on the bathroom. "I'll be out in ten minutes," she called from the partially shut bathroom door. Of course he could join her but she hadn't outwardly invited him. She could happily share.

When they made it back to the hotel room, Bill watched Beatrix intently as she went into the bathroom. She hadn't banned him from going in there, but he wasn't positive what her boundaries were. He realized, that despite knowing Beatrix for quite sometime, he was a little hazy on her personal limits. Some women didn't mind, others wouldn't have any of it. He wasn't sure if wanted to risk a bad reaction, not with everything going so well. He'd wait to do that until she made it clearer to him. "Alright," he replied and went about to properly unpacking as Beatrix busied herself in the other room. He had to admit he felt a little weird without having any sort of firearm around him at all. He hadn't brought a single weapon, save for a small pocket knife....the sort of thing a lot of men carried, who didn't kill people for a living. He realized how silly that was, that he actually felt effected without a weapon near him. This all stemmed from the first time he'd picked up a gun as a boy.....he'd fallen in love with it, and it had been a lifetime affair that refused to leave him. What he had brought with him though, was one of his smaller flutes, about an arm's length. It was a traditional Chinese style flute with a number of characters burnt into the wood. He'd made this one long ago and it still played beautifully. He set it aside as he changed into a set of grey pajama style kung fu silks. Bill could be in the most Western European of nations and it was still impossible to remove the Far East from him. He then picked up the flute and went out onto the balcony. He sat down on the smooth French tiling, bare feet crossed in front of him, his back against the side railing, He began tinkering around with the instrument idly.

Beatrix took a tad longer then the given ten minutes, actually she took a good twenty minutes. It wasn't due to the fact she was a regular woman that took ages in the bathroom. She washed up, undressed, changed into a pair of gray sweat pants due to the cooler night weather and a matching tank top, her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she brushed her teeth. Normal perpetrations when one was getting ready for bed except usually these tasks did not make one aggravated.

But, the second she came out of the bathroom, bare feet padding lightly on the floor, and she spotted Bill outside with a flute, her demeanor completely washed over. Any hint of aggravation and what she was aggravated over were gone and shut out. She was going to continue to enjoy every minute of this. A contented smile on her face she sauntered over and joined him on the patio flooring. Legs bent to her chest and she rested her head back against the railing, almost mocking Bill's posture. Blue eyes remained on the flute. "Play something for me," she directed quietly.

Bill was too immersed in his flute playing to notice the quick change in Beatrix's demeanor as she came out of the bathroom. He did stop and smile at her as she came out onto the patio and sat down beside him. He liked it very much when Beatrix asked him to play and was more than willing to abide to her wishes. "Hrm.....not only will I play for you," he said softly, examining the flute, "I will tell you a story......" He placed the flute to his lips and played a long string of notes. He paused, taking his time to think, "...This is a story of the cicada, the praying mantis and the sparrow...it is an ancient Chinese story...."

Again, he continued the line of notes....they rang in true Chinese tones, far from any Western musical scale, again he stopped, and began speaking in that telltale storybook tone of voice, "...The prince of Wu decided he was going to attack the state of Chu.....and he gave a stern warning to all of his subjects that if anyone raised objections to this invasion....they would be put to death." He gave Beatrix a dramatic look, relishing in the drama of the story, as Bill was opt to do, "....One of the prince's stewards wanted to protest, but dared not. Instead...he took a catapult and pellets and wandered in the back courtyard. He did this until his clothing was wet with dew. He did this for three mornings." Again, Bill lifted the flute and played on, and then stopped, "Well...the prince was not fond of this....'Come here!' ordered the prince to his steward, 'What are you doing to make your clothes wet with dew?' The steward replied, 'There is a tree in the garden, and on it there is a cicada. This cicada perches up there, chirping away and drinking the dew, not knowing there is a praying mantis behind it. And the praying mantis leans forward, raising it's forelegs to catch the cicada, not knowing there is a sparrow beside it." Another dramatic pause as Bill went back to playing the flute. After a moment, he continued, "The steward continued, by saying, 'The sparrow...again...cranes it's neck to peck at the praying mantis, not knowing that there is someone with a catapult waiting below. These three small creatures are so eager to profit by something directly in front of them, that they fail to realize the danger behind....." A few short flute notes, "The prince then replied, 'Well said," and he gave up his plans for invasion at that very moment." Letting the story sink in, Bill then continued the song for a few more minutes, until it came to a soft end, the notes mingling surprisingly well with the hum of the street below. He slowly lowered the flute and turned to smile at Beatrix, "So simple.......yet still quite relevant in our world...."

Whenever Bill told a story in this fashion, mingling with the soft essence of the flute to aid the words she found it to be complex. The moral of the tale usual had a great deal to do with something that was going on. Perhaps not directly but indirectly. Either way she couldn't place it but she took in the moral of the story and stored it away for later contemplation.

During the monologue Beatrix had shifted onto the cool tiling of the patio, lying on her side, and head propped up with the aid of an open palm and a bend in her elbow. Blue eyes affectionately and fondly continued to watch Bill long after the final notes. "Yes, I can see where that would apply…especially in 'our' world." A slender brow raised a fraction before her features came to soften. "I'd like to think right now, though, that we can forget all of that and pretend there is nothing lurking behind us, but only what is right in front of us…no matter the profit." With a stifled yawn she shifted again and came into a sitting position. "That was a very pleasant bed time story," a smile playing across her obviously worn features.

Bill did few things just on pure accident; there was always some hidden relevance......even if it was something so simple as an ancient short story. "It applies to any world I think," he replied to Beatrix in a soft voice, "But....yes....most certainly in ours." Bill knew that no matter how much of the "top dog" he was in his world, there was always somebody above him, waiting to end his reign of terror. He was aware of his precious mortality in a very cruel world. "Astute words Kiddo," he smiled down at her, referring to her take on the story.

He chuckled, at her tired expression, "I'll just have to save my other stories for another evening then." Actually, he was extremely tired himself. It had been something of a very, very long day. He hadn't really had a proper night of sleep in over two days. They had just arrived here; there was more than enough time. He stood along with Beatrix and they went inside. When Bill emerged from the bathroom, Beatrix was already well settled into the giant bed. He came to a pause at the foot of it, "This is a rather princely bed......" he grinned at her, "...almost......intimidating...." This coming from a man who owned a California King. He climbed in under the covers beside her, taking his time to readjust his pillows and such. He was a little picky about how things were arranged. When he felt he was satisfied with the bedding, he reached over and shut off the overhead lighting. The street lights from outside still brought in a nice amount of subtle light into the room though.

He rolled over to face Beatrix, smiling gently, "So...how does this compare to your other birthday's thus far?"

"This birthday far out weights all of them, along with numerous other insignificant things," she replied lightly. That was the truth and it was an easy truth to tell. As for the other insignificant things she referred too, it would be a feat to tell what she was referring too but one such as Bill would be able to dig around. Her hands folded together and she placed them beneath her turned cheek, tucked between pillow and flesh. The light was dim but once her eyes had adjusted it was easy to make out Bill's distinct facial features. She stared at him for a few complex moments before her eyelids grew too heavy and they slipped over her eyes. Her lips parted and she said in a whisper, "Thank you…" She wanted to tell him she was happy but that was too much of a truth for her to outwardly admit. She knew he could tell and by knowing that he knew she knew she was even happier.

That precious "thank you" from her was more than enough. Bill watched her for a few more minutes as she drifted off to sleep. In those sorts of soft moments, he looked as little like a killer as she did. As tried and true a killer that he was though, he was also a man who sought to please those who meant something to him.....since very few people did. He knew Beatrix was pleased, there was no mistaking that.

Eventually, he rolled over and fell asleep.


	16. Paris: Wine Tasting

The next morning Bill had room service bring by a large breakfast array for them. He had of course, woken up before Beatrix, but he'd done his best to let her sleep as much as possible. When she did wake up, he was sitting next to her, cross legged on top of the covers with a series of trays in front of him. There was a plate of croissants and jelly, fruit, bagels, some pastry looking things and a giant pitcher of juice. It wasn't the fanciest breakfast they had to offer, but he didn't want to go overboard on the whole breakfast thing. The morning sun was casting bright rays through the French doors onto the finely carpeted floor. Bill was watching television at a low volume and when Beatrix rolled over blearily, he bent over and kissed her.

"Good morning," he smiled, croissant in hand. "I went ahead and ordered some breakfast." His gaze flickered to the television, "You won't believe how much nudity there in on French TV....." he didn't sound all that horrified by this fact.

Beatrix wasn't that horrified either, as she came up to a sitting position and propped a pillow behind her back. Blue eyes glazed over from grogginess did a quick sweep of the trays laid out on the bed. The breakfast array although simple looked delicious. "That's because," she began in a slow tone as she reached over for a knife and butter. "The French supposedly have magnificent bodies." She smirked idly as she took up a croissant and began to smear on a helping of butter. She munched on her croissant and a few various fruits from the fruit selection and kept her attention on the television show Bill pointed out.

"Now," she poked her fork through a wad of melon. "Seeing this, I'm not entirely sure I agree with the magnificent body concept." She wasn't going to state what she found on their bodies to be an imperfection so she took a bite of the melon and chewed idly.

Bill raised an eyebrow. He wasn't so sure about the magnificent bodies' thing himself. "I think," he said as he went about picking at a bunch of grapes, "....it's that they are simply willing to show them off more in public.......and that somehow makes them more appealing," he shrugged, unsure of his own explanation, as he tried one of the pastry

looking things.

Beatrix took a few chews bites and half of a cheese filled pastry was taken before she spoke up again, "What's on the agenda today?"

When she asked him what was on the agenda, Bill leaned back on his hands, "Well...I called down to the front desk earlier and they gave me the name of a good winery just about an hour outside of Paris. There's a place we have to catch the bus to go out there, but we've have to take the Metro subway there first. Should be an adventure," he smiled over at her as he stood up, and running his hands through his rather unruly hair, "I'm going to go take a shower and shave. Then, I say we get going." Bill wasn't one to doddle around for long, when there was something to be done. There was no missing the wisp of excitement in his voice, for the first time in a very, very long time; Bill was genuinely giddy over doing something so "normal."

He grabbed his clothing for the day and disappeared into the bathroom. Ever prompt, ten minutes later, he opened the door fully dressed, razor still in hand. "You almost ready Kiddo?" he called into the room.

"I've been ready for the past…ten seconds," she called back to him, humor ringing in her tone. He was always so fucking prompt it annoyed the hell out of her but today she'd play along. Just before he came out of the bathroom she slipped on her shoe and sprang up to her feet. She was all dressed and ready with a placid smile on her face.

It was quite a scene seeing the two killers trying to decipher the map and get directions from local patrons. Beatrix's French wasn't as awful as Bill's but she still had difficulties when it came to trying to figure out exactly what street the metro was on. Further confliction started when it came time to figure out what stop they needed to get off on. Luckily this didn't cause too much hostile bickering or aggravation between the two and in the end it was something to look back on and laugh.

They were now seated on the bus that would drop them off at the winery. The bus was rather empty and the bus driver wasn't that friendly as he refused to play tour-guide and point out things on their drive. The road was quite beautiful. Pure country, dirt road, wooden fence posts, various animals assorted along the side of the road. Beatrix would randomly point out a cow or a horse on the side of the road making it as if Bill had never seen one before. She knew it was annoying him so she continued. "There was a point when I was about five that I wanted a pony," she stated randomly, her forehead pressed against the window, fine cut bangs plastering against the glass.

Bill had finally settled down after the whole "map" episode between he and Beatrix. They'd had a pretty good row....there had been a lot of yelling at each other and violent arm waving. Bill was pretty sure he'd told at least three native Frenchman to fuck off in the process of them trying to help the situation. Beatrix only irritated him further, being so sure she was right about which they were going and he not wanting to ask for directions in the first place.

Well, either way....they'd worked it out...gotten over it, and now it all seemed quite funny, as they sat on the bus. The scenery scrolling by was quite breathtaking and it was easy to stare placidly out at the rural French countryside. Bill found Beatrix's constant pointing out of perfectly common farm animals rather humorous...at least for the first few minutes, and then it got annoying. "Don't all little girls go through that phase?" He quipped at her, "The pony phase...followed shortly by the 'I want to be a veterinarian' phase." He smirked, continuing to gaze out the window. All joking aside, maybe she had wanted a pony.....no little girls living in trailer parks got ponies though, not real ones at least. "When I was five....hrm..." he had to really dig back on that one, ".....I think I wanted this new set of plastic cowboys and Indians. They used to come in these cardboard tubes...which plastic tops," he chuckled, "....this if way before your time of course. Well, every year they'd update the set......add new guys....new poses and such. I remember seeing the new canister at the corner store. I wanted it so bad…..hardly as unreachable as a pony...but it seemed like it at the time. If I'd been a few years older...I just would have stolen it like I did everything I wanted later on. But I wasn't like that yet....so....I went to my mother...and asked her if she could buy it for me........" his look darkened a little, "....I don't think she ever heard me....I don't remember her ever doing so. She pushed me away….or something along those lines. Then, I think I went to Estiban.....in tears like a silly child. He said there was nothing wrong with the set I had, so why should I bother with the new one. I should enjoy what I have. I told him that half of my guys were missing arms and heads. Well," Bill shrugged,"....it was no good. I was stuck with the shitty set. And by the time the next year rolled around, I thought they were dumb anyways....instead I wanted one of those play John Wayne twin shooter and belt sets." He laughed, "I think I got that though."

He grew serious again, thinking on the less than idealistic childhood that many of their sort lived through. There was something to be said about that. He leaned against Beatrix, giving her a kiss on the side of the head, "Good thing you didn't get a pony, Kiddo. All girls who get ponies end up being rich spoiled bitch's anyways."

Eventually, the bus came to a halt in front of the winery. Both of them climbed out of the bus along with a handful of other people on their way to do the same thing. The winery was exquisitely beautiful. The main grouping of buildings looked quite old, but had obviously been remodeled so as not to fall apart over the centuries. The winery sat partially up the side of a gently sloped hill and behind it, falling to a large valley was a sea of grapevines. The bright sun shone gloriously over the green hills and twisting vines. It looked like something out of a tourist brochure.

The group was met by an elderly looking man, who spoke fairly good English. With a kind smile, he began a short tour of the grounds before they all were invited in to taste the large variety of wines that were produced there.

Bill bent over and whispered in Beatrix's ear as they embarked on the tour, "You'd better not get trashed in such a cultured place...." he smirked, knowing she hated being teased about her rather weak wine retaining skills.

Beatrix did the only thing she could think of which was to hit Bill hard against the arm with the back of her hand. A slap to the arm, so to speak but either way she didn't hold back on force and noticed the faint wince on Bill's part. She grinned slyly from ear to ear. "Smart ass," she hissed with a good amount of playfulness laced in. Blue eyes looked up to notice the group was already moving forward and she proceeded to follow. Bill, once recovered did the same.

There were two other couples on the wine tour besides Beatrix and Bill. Both sets were obviously tourists. There was an elderly couple, a husband and wife who were both obviously a great deal older than Bill or they just hadn't aged well. The second couple was middle aged and had noticeable English accents. All in all both couples were pleasant to be around during their tour of the winery.

Beatrix found she was learning a lot of things she never knew about wine and the process of preparing it. As fascinating as it was she came to realize that the 'job' of making it took years and could become boring in time. Either way it was interesting to see first hand.

"Isn't this brilliant?" Said the middle-aged woman that was standing on Beatrix's other side as they stood there watching as the tour guide prepared his next presentation.

"Oh, yes," Beatrix replied putting on an all out friendly demeanor.

"I'm Rose and over there is my husband John," she motioned to the man more towards the front of the group.

"I'm…Natalie and that's my friend…Adam," Beatrix waved a dismissive hand in Bill's general direction.

"Pleasure to meet you Natalie. Are you here on vacation?"

Beatrix gave a tight nod. "Yes, we really needed a vacation away from work."

"So did we! It was becoming a hassle with the kids and work on top of that. I said to John if I didn't get away soon I was going to kill something," Rose laughed lightly but cut herself off quickly. "Oh, looks like we're moving on to the best part. Wining tasting. Enjoy, honey," and she moved away to rejoin her husband.

Beatrix watched a moment before rejoining her own. She held a placidly thin smile on her face. "I renamed you Adam," she commented comically as she laced an arm into his and moved to follow the rest inside.

Bill scowled, "Adam?" He obviously didn't approve, "You could have at least renamed me as something......a little more manly...." a smirk. There would be more than enough opportunities for him to properly get back at her there. They followed the other two couples into the thankfully cool and shady interior of the winery.

They were all shown to a long roughly hewn but beautiful wood table, where a number of small barrels were lined up. These were the traditional old wine barrels. Along with these a row of bottled wine sat, uncorked. At the end of the table was a large tray lined with small glass wine bottles. These were basically smaller versions of the normal wine glass. They were informed to test as they pleased. They were even given some pointers on which wines tasted particularly good mixed together.

Bill, with Beatrix at his side, began pouring himself a couple of mini glasses. The other two couples, whom Bill found to be pleasant enough, did the same.

There were a series of small traditional French cafe style tables off to the side, where people could sit and casually take their time to taste their wine choices. Once the two killers had poured themselves a handful of glasses each, they went and sat down at one of the tables. In typical Bill fashion, Bill took his time, savoring each one as he watched Beatrix do the same with just the slightest of smirks on his face.

The wine, to no ones surprise, was absolutely wonderful. Bill had never had wine quite like it, and he went back to try a handful more. He then decided to mix a few. He had something of a....penchant for mixing things....and wine and potent chemicals weren't too far off. He insisted to Beatrix she had to try one of his concoctions, which he described as "extremely fucking good."

As the wine continued to flow, so did the conversation and it didn't take long for the six people to begin to talk to one another more conversationally. Bill found both the elderly man and his wife quite interesting, he liked the middle aged British man enough, but he wasn't too sure about his wife so far.

Thus far, Beatrix hadn't fallen over in a drunken stupor, or removed any clothing in an ecstatic state of uncontrolled enthusiasm. Bill was a little disappointed about that.

The conversation and the drinking went on for a good forty minutes until everyone decided to stop and sober up. All six couples got to know one another quite well during their drinking experience. Beatrix learned that the English couple lived in upstate New York with their three children. Beatrix was keen to know more on the children as well as their 'normal' life style. Luckily no one thought this was odd seeing they were all a tad tipsy. The elderly couple Bill spent a majority of the time talking to lived in Ohio and owned a small business that sold homemade jams. Beatrix wanted to give them her address to send a sample but she resisted the temptation.

Soon it was time to leave and Beatrix stood near the exit as Bill paid for a few various wines he wanted to take home. She had held her wine quite well and was now only feeling light headed and a tad woozy. But she didn't give it much thought knowing she should have ate more of the crackers on the table as her stomach had been empty since breakfast.

As Bill came back over the smile plastered on her face was weary but no less blissful. "Ready?" She inclined lightly to the bus waiting at the end of the driveway.

"Yeah....." Bill replied, irritated that customs only allowed one to bring two bottles of wine back into the US. "Your going to have to pack some of these bottles in your suitcase...that is, if we don't want to have them confiscated in customs," he said as they walked back to the bus, toting the bottles of wine.

The trip back was pleasant, seeing as the six bus riders knew one another a little better, there was some conversation over the seats and so on. Bill hadn't missed Beatrix's rather focused interest on the ever-so-quant NY located, British couple's "normal" life. He personally didn't see much of the charm in the whole thing, but he didn't say anything as to not piss Beatrix off. He knew she had her moments of whimsy...it was best to let her have them.

It was nearing late in the afternoon when they finally got back to the hotel. With the added transportation time, the touring, the wine lessons and the ample tasting, the day had flown by and suddenly feeling it, Bill threw himself down on one of the rooms huge overstuffed chairs...once he'd carefully placed his newly acquired wine in a sate spot of course.

"That was quite enjoyable," he said calmly but wearily as he took his shoes off, with a look of great relief. "Good company as well.....," he glanced at Beatrix, with a raised eyebrow, lips pursed to say something but he seemed to decide against it. Bill always had this very impersonal yet charming way of treating strangers....as if he was removed, yet there was some vested interest that allowed him to be quite likeable. It was a set of behavioral codes that he'd developed over his life to allow him to be an amazingly effective killer yet remain personable enough to get what he wanted. He hardly even realized he did it any more. "Goddamn, I'm tired...." he scowled, leaning back in the chair.

Beatrix came over to the bed and nestled on top of the warm comforter. She was tired too but she didn't want to admit it. The day had been long but the time zone was still messing with her internal clock. She reached over for a pillow and held it to her chest as she rolled onto her back. Blue eyes turned to thoughtfully stare at the ceiling. "Shit, this is just what I was worried about," she began to muse quietly to herself. "We get up early, spend the day out, and by late afternoon you're dead to the world."

The smirk evident on her facial features she turned head to him. "We could relax for a few hours and then go out for a late dinner," she suggested quietly but with hinted mockery. She had no intention on using those few hours to take a nap but rest her eyes and perhaps watch some more of the nude French on the T.V.

Bill on the other hand, had every intention of using those hours to take a nap. "I'm dead to the world?" He mused crankily, as he stood up and crawled across the bed. He collapsed on his chest on the pillow beside Beatrix, ".....I don't think I'm the only one....." But the statement lost allot of weight, due to the fact he was already half asleep. "Wake me up.........at some point..." he said groggily, hair covering his face. He had forgotten to tell her that he agreed with the idea about late dinner, but it was too late now....and she probably just assumed he thought so anyways.

And thus Beatrix was allowed to rest and watch a good amount of nude French people on TV in peace...well...at least until Bill started snoring. He'd warned her about that sometime ago. He was awakened with a series of rather nasty strikes to the back and Beatrix's distinctive muttered curses. "What?" he snarled.

"I heard…" Beatrix began and took an impulsive inch back to avoid Bill's sudden cranky awakening. Her lips came in a taut line and her head canted down at him as she supported herself on her knees on the bed. "That if you roll a person that is snoring over than they will stop snoring. So, I tried and you wouldn't budge. So," Her hands went palm down on her thighs. "I thought if I…tapped you…you'd roll over on reflex." Her slender brows furrowed. "Obviously that didn't work." She was more or less happy and somewhat bubbly. Perhaps it was the after affects of the wine in her system that she sobered off by watching aimless television. She caught a few winks of sleep but only just enough to refresh her. She was now on the edge of the bed slipping on a pair of sandals. She looked over to him with a coy smile. "But, since you're awake it's time to go."

"Nooo....the reason somebody stops snoring when you roll them over...." Bill began as he groggily sat up, "....is because it fucking wakes them up....and thus..." a smirk in Beatrix's direction,"....they stop snoring." He was playing around of course; he was more than glad that Beatrix had woken him up. To emphasize that he wasn't really all that grumpy, he gave her a playful shove as he stood up.

It didn't take Bill long to get ready and they were back down on the street within five minutes. He'd spotted a nice looking restaurant earlier that day on the way to the Metro and with only a few missed turns they found it. It was something of a hole in the wall sort of place, set into a very old looking brick building. The setting was intimate, upscale but still casual. The host sat them at a small corner table. After a few minutes of deciding what to order, a waiter took their order and let them be.

"Ya know Kiddo...." Bill said, as he unfolded the starch white napkin at his elbow, ".....I could get used to this lifestyle." He gave her a warm look, "I can't say I miss home all that much......" he picked up his butter knife, examining one side of the blade and then the other. "I could give it all up........" he raised a self doubting eyebrow, ".....perhaps...." He set the knife down, looking intensely at Beatrix, "It's not impossible...." Indeed, Bill had been a wise investor throughout his years of contract killing. He had something of a small fortune stowed away, untouched.....gaining interest in a Swiss bank account at that very moment. It would be easy to just....go away and live out the rest of his life somewhere far away.

Beatrix stared at him in an almost silent horror. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Yes and it came from Bill's mouth, not her own or her own teasing fantasies. She faded out of her stunned expression and put on something more thoughtful and a touch serious. Her hands nonchalantly unfolded the napkin were she revealed her own butter knife and wrapped her long white fingers around it picking it up. Blue eyes stared back at the blurred reflection of her own eyes in the metallic surface. "I never thought it to be impossible," she said gently. She knew he wasn't referring to this 'life-style' as being one of tourism, fancy dining, and room service but the life-style of being normal.

She preformed an effortless display of movements with the mere butter knife before settling it down to the side of her plate. She wanted to believe him. Perhaps this would be one of the only times in her life she'd never not believe him. Bill enjoyed what he did too much to give it up willingly. There would have to be a catch or a substantial reason for him to give up this life and move onto something away from the risks of being a full time killer.

"You miss it," she stated-matter-of-factly. Just as she would miss it at some point. One could never fully reject what they were although one could try really fucking hard. She lifted her eyes to level with his void with an untouched sadness that was hard to read. She switched off. "Besides, this life can get boring after awhile." A lie but it was something to clear the musty air.

Bill stared back at her, his expression impossible to properly place or name. He hadn't intended his musings to touch a nerve or chafe in some way or another, but there was no missing the rather dark mix of emotions that he'd seen scroll across Beatrix's face. He hadn't been lying to her per se, but he was far from telling absolute truths. Had he been toying too carelessly with something she found precious? He was treating this whole "real life" thing with a sense of casual and experimental zeal....where she seemed to take the concept far more seriously. He was more or less fucking around. And she'd called him on his lie. That was...........irritating. They sat in silence as the waiter brought their food and then politely left the table.

Bill let that dark stare continue between him and the woman sitting across from him for a few more seconds, her brief flood of emotions had subsequently been shut off. He could relate to that and then with a somewhat dismissive nod, he turned to his newly arrived plate of food.

Beatrix was too smart to be tempted back into the "real world," he was sure of that. She would never leave. And Bill had to admit to himself that that thought gave him a very selfishly derived sense of security. She was his gal, she'd always been, and she would always be. It sounded perhaps a bit too possessive, but to Bill...it was true. Why would she want to anything more? He was good to her, he'd do anything for her, he'd give her anything she wanted, he adored her.....no, more than that.....he loved her.

The rest of the dinner conversation wasn't negative, but it remained rather sparse.. And Bill had to admit it felt damn good to step out of the stiff restaurant air and into the clear night. He clasped onto Beatrix's hand with affection, "Come on Kiddo....let's go find that coffee bistro again," he spoke softly, "I think it was somewhere off to the left....."


	17. Paris: The Baguette

"I bought bread," said an overly jubilant Beatrix. Bill had been surveying a stand displaying various Swiss army knifes when Beatrix rejoined him. Actually the entire block was crowded with stands selling food, clothing, jewelry, and…bread. It was a typical weekend street fair. She was now standing behind him wearing a pair of black jeans, a black three-quarter button-up-black shirt with a white flower design, and a pair of black thick healed boots. Locks of blonde hair were pulled half back with a hair tie but with the excessive amount of wind her hair was a damn mess and it had been annoying her a great deal.

In her arms was an elongated loaf of French bread wrapped in a thin tissue type paper. In other words it was a baguette.

Bill turned away from the knife stand with a raised eyebrow. He smiled broadly at Beatrix. She looked cute with her hair all frazzled out. He liked that shirt on her too, he'd never seen her wear it before. "Good God...." he surveyed the large baguette in her arms, "...now that's what I call bread." He glanced back at the knife stand, but then dismissively turned back to Beatrix, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked away. "Asshole tried to rip me off...." he muttered, "He had a nice piece in there....a World War I combat knife, but I think he thought he could take me on it..." he sneered, "Not likely."

After last night, Bill was glad to see things were a little between them today. He wasn't really sure what had happened the night before, but after dinner things had been strained and they had spent the rest of the night hardly saying a word to each other. Back at the hotel room, Beatrix had spent most of her time idly watching TV and taking a ridiculously long shower, while he tooled around on the patio playing his flute and then leafing aimlessly through a stack of Paris tourist brochures. In short, it had not been the evening Bill had hoped it would have been.

But today, things were better. They had run almost by accident into a huge block market, selling everything from baby baskets, to fruit, to bad paintings and gipsy palm reading sessions. Both of them were finding it quite enjoyable and there was a large enough variety to keep to both of their interests.

Bill looked back down at the baguette that Beatrix was toting, "Ya know....you could probably kill somebody with that baguette," he smirked at her with a sadistic glint in his eye. Leave it to Bill to make a perfectly innocent piece of bakery product into a deadly weapon.

Beatrix raised a speculative eye brow at him and then back down to the bread in her arms. She then idly twirled it as one would a blade and effortlessly swung it around (the bread was hard so it was unlikely to break during these maneuvers) and brought it around the settle against Bill's collar bone. "If it was sharper or…I could let it sit out for a week and become rock solid and then hit you over the head with it," she said with an equally sadistic glint in her eye to go along with her smile.

She flipped the baguette back around to settle in her arms and her façade became placid. The man standing a few feet away at the knife stand was staring at the blonde with eyes agog. Beatrix ignored this and just began to walk away with Bill at her side. "I wasn't ripped off when buying this," she stated, that jubilant demeanor still present. "But, I was deciding between the baguette and a piece of jewelry." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It was a hard choice but I choose the baguette." Leave it to Beatrix to buy a loaf of bread instead of 22K gold diamond necklace or something equally as pricey.

Bill smiled, raising a brow of his own at her, as they continued to walk along through the crowed, "You chose a piece of bread over jewelry," he smiled, shaking his head, "You are indeed far from the typical woman Kiddo." That was a major "duh" statement on a number of levels and Bill knew it. He chuckled to himself, pondering her comment about hitting him over the head with the newly ordained..."bread as weapon." He leaned against her affectionately as they walked, "Isn't it supposed to be the man who clubs the woman over the head....so he can drag her back to his cave.....?" he gave her a well meaning smirk, before placing a kiss on her temple. He thought about offering to buy her whatever thing she had been looking at, but thought it somewhat silly.....but then again...

"Show me what you were looking at?" He prodded her with a tilt of his head, when she seemed hesitant, he gave her a playful little shove, smile widening, "Come on.....show me...I want to see what expensive thing you turned down for bread, albeit a very impressive loaf of bread." He gave her another playful little prodding shove, never one to be easily undaunted.

"Fine," Beatrix said after a few more shoves were ensued and she almost bumped into someone who gave the couple a nasty glare. She gripped his hand and led him through the crowds and down a few carts until they came to a long rectangular table arrayed with a magnificent display of jewelry. Standing behind the display was a middle aged woman, creased wrinkles around her eyes due to the over use of de-wrinkle products that didn't work, and she had raven black hair streaked with strands of white that was pulled up into a bun. She wore a white button up blouse and a pair of jeans.

When Beatrix came over with Bill, the woman immediately stopped caring to the customer she was with and approached them on the opposite table. The sales woman seemed flustered at the tall blonde's reappearance.

"There they are," Beatrix was saying as the woman approached. She was pointing to a simple pair of earrings. They were the dangling type, a simple oval shaped topaz stone that was encircled with a white gold trim. The earrings were very beautiful as they were very pricey.

"You came back!" The saleswoman said. Beatrix looked up with a curious arch of her brow. "Yes, but I was just showing my…"

"You her husband? Oui, good," the saleswoman was a fast talker, her English good but choppy and it had an evident French accent. "Tell her she insulted me by going and buying bread and not my jewelry! This is all hand made, you know how many hours I spend making this? Hundreds! More hours then I bet you ever have worked."

Beatrix gave Bill and apologetic side glance. She had gotten in an argument of sorts with the saleswoman about the earrings, that being her major hesitance to come back.

Bill watched this exchange between Beatrix and the pushy saleswoman with a furrowed brow. He then briefly glanced back down at the pair of earrings, which were...he had to admit, quite beautiful.

He looked back up at the saleswoman who was watching them with an irritated and flustered look. "Have you ever made bread for a living?" Bill asked the woman in an even voice.

The French woman gave him a frazzled look, "Well...non...but I have made it before, for dinner." She shook her head, "Look monsieur, that is not the point, I make jewelry-"

"So," Bill interrupted her, which was rare for him, "...then how do you know that the person who made that bread did not put just as much of their hardworking effort into making it than you put into making those earrings?"

The saleswoman's wrinkled eyes widened for a brief moment, "That is ridiculous, I-"

"And likewise," Bill continued, "How do you know that....my wife," he stressed the two words with a hint of sarcasm, which was followed by a dark chuckle, "...does not work equally hard in what she does for a living?"

The saleswoman looked more flustered than before, her eyes darted between the two of them. "I did not mean to insult you or your wife, I-"

"Just as my wife did not mean to insult you," Bill interjected with a raised eyebrow.

This was too much for the saleswoman, she'd hadn't asked for this sort of harassment...she just wanted to sell jewelry. "Excuse moi, I have other customers," she turned away, looking rather snitty.

"That being said," Bill spoke up loudly, so that the rapidly moving away saleswoman could hear him, "They are very exquisite earrings."

The saleswoman froze and turned back to them. She was back in the mode, but somewhat distanced now, "Oui, oui! Very beautiful! They would look very beautiful on your young wife!"

Bill smirked, "Do you have any single earrings?"

The newly friendly saleswoman stared at him, "Non...pourqui..er..why?"

He waved a hand, "Hrm.....never mind," he reached around to his back pocket and took out his wallet; opening it...he began stacking large bills on the counter in front of the gaping saleswoman. Bill stopped midway through setting down a hundred Euro, "Would your prefer traveler's checks?" he asked with s twist of a lip.

"OH! NON! Non!," the saleswoman caught herself, "Non...monsieur, cash is very good too."

The entire time the saleswoman was carefully packing the earrings up in a small box, she was prattling on about how stunning they were going to look on the tall blonde. By the time she handed Bill the small wrapped box, Beatrix was her "favorite customer of the day" Before the two of them left the counter, Bill leaned over to the now grinning saleswoman, "Go buy some bread," he told her in a not entirely friendly tone of voice.

As they walked away, Bill turned to Beatrix, the box still in his hand, "I know you hate this sort of thing," he smiled, "But....indulge me," he took her hand, the one that wasn't still clutching onto the baguette, and placed the small box in her palm.

Beatrix glanced to Bill with an amused smile on her face. It was very sweet that he went and bought the earrings for her and what they had to go through in order to get them was highly amusing, only adding to the 'special' notion of it. "Aw," she said slipping the box into her jean pocket for safe keeping. "You're so sweet...sometimes." Her smile turned coy and she leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek before they started back down the street. The array of vendors along the sidewalk was beginning to dwindle. Soon the street curved into a side alley way that eventually ceased at a canal.

Beatrix idly sauntered over to the railing and stared down into the green glossed water, with bread still in hand. She wasn't letting go of that bread, it was somewhat humorous. She glanced over her shoulder at her 'husband'. That had been even funnier as was the whole confusing conversation Bill had with the saleswoman. "Did you buy anything? Because if you didn't maybe I should go back and tell the army knife vendor to buy some bread."

Bill laughed, finding a good amount of humor in the full circle of the joke. "That won't be necessary Kiddo....but the offer is appreciated," he chuckled, but then suddenly grew completely serious, "Don't move!" He held up his hand, his other hand reaching back to grab the camera that was slung over his shoulder. He'd been totting the camera around all day, taking his random, generally badly composed pictures. Last night, when he'd spent most of the evening trying to avoid getting into a conversation with Beatrix by reading through a stack of tourist magazines, he'd read an article about finding good photo opportunities while vacationing. It appeared he'd taken this to heart, but instead of going about it casually, Bill's way of informing somebody of a good photo op was to act like they were currently standing in front of a ravenous bear.

"Just don't move..." he repeated in a stern voice, fiddling with the camera, scowling. Finally, he smiled as he snapped the shot of Beatrix standing there next to the canal, holding onto the baguette, smiling happily, her hair blowing in the wind. "That was perfect..." He grinned, joining her at the railing. He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning in closely he gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "I hope out of all of the pictures I've taken, that one turns out the best."

Beatrix affectionately leaned her forehead against his and then turned to stare out at the canal, her temple settled against his. She didn't want him to take a picture right then. Her hair was a frizzled mess with the constant wind. She stared out at the rippling water below and replied, "With your camera skills I give it a fifty-fifty chance of coming out less than perfect." She smirked playfully before that contented smile came back across her face.

There was a moments silence before she spoke up again in speculation, "You know, prettier pictures of me could be taken."

Bill smiled gently, letting her little poke at his somewhat lacking camera skills go...mainly because it was true. "Hrm perhaps," he replied softly to her last comment, eyes focused on the dark green water below. "But...you never fail to be pretty in any picture Kiddo...just as you are in reality. And besides, this way we'll always have the bread...saved for posterity."

He smiled at her, "Beauty fades...." he smirked, "Just look at me....." a laugh, "But....meaning never does." He gave her shoulders a squeeze, looking up from the water to gaze at her fondly, "I think....we should go to the Spanish quarter for dinner...have some real Spanish food." He raised an eyebrow, "Little do you know....I can dance a mean salsa...even a tango if I'm in the right mood. I can teach you," he grinned at her, knowing she'd have a reaction to that one. "It would be a good change from our cheese, bread and cracker diet of late. What do you say Kiddo?"

Beatrix pulled her head away and canted her chin to her chest, raising eyebrows in his direction. "The Spanish quarter sounds perfect but," she held up a threatening single digit. "There is no way in hell you are dancing the salsa and there is no 'fucking' way you are going to embarrass me by attempting to tango." With threats effectively served out the 'killer' couple proceeded back to the hotel to prepare for dinner.

Bill just smirked at her threats, "You say that now....but you'll do it....I know you will....your underestimating my dancing abilities as well as my powers of persuasion." This just earned him a glare, which he laughed off. This continuous jibing continued as they walked back to the hotel and got ready for dinner.


	18. Paris: Dancing & Tequlia

Bill had brought his wicked silver tipped cowboy boots along, and in his mind, found them appropriate for the evening. But, much to Beatrix's immense relief, his flashiness stopped there, as he wore black slacks and a jacket over a plain tan button up shirt.

The Spanish quarter wasn't too far away and it didn't take them long to become immersed in a world that was strikingly different from the parts of Paris they had seen so far. Bill, instantly felt a little more "at home" so to speak. Being that France was so close to Spain, there was a very genuine air about everything. Spanish music was everywhere, shops and restaurants were open, all in a very Spanish style. Even the architecture was more Spanish. Most of the inhabitants of this area of Paris where migrants from nearby Spain. They took their time finding a restaurant, mainly due to the fact, that there was so much to look at and listen to. Now that he was a "native speaker", Bill spoke with a number of the musicians and shopkeepers. He asked a few about restaurant recommendations.

Finally, well past dusk, the two killers ducked into one of the highly recommended restaurants. It was fairly large, and decorated in full Spanish style. It seemed to be a fairly popular place, and most of the clientele appeared to be Spanish. Bill and Beatrix were easily the whitest people there. Little, if any English was spoken...which suited Bill just fine as he rambled on with the host for a few minutes in an insanely fast exchange of Spanish. There was a large dance floor in the middle of the restaurant, which obviously seemed to be the focus of attention. A large band was situated up front, and the dance floor was quite crowded with flamboyantly dancing couples. Flamingo music filled the air.

Bill and Beatrix were seated at a well located table, most likely because Bill had gotten along so well with the host. It was midway between the side of the restaurant, which was lined with booths, and the dance floor itself. It was also far enough away from the band, that you didn't go deaf. The table settings were equally as festive, draped with bright Spanish cloths. There were native candle holders in the center of the table, the small flame giving a little more light to the slightly dark atmosphere. Only the dance floor appeared to be well lit, and even it was lit with strung up bulb lights that cast a festive reddish/pink glow on everything. Bill was jubilant, "This place is great..." he said enthusiastically, as they were seated. Already in the spirit of things, he went ahead and ordered himself a bottomless tequila. He then began scanning the menu like a child in a candy store.

Beatrix ordered herself a complimentary iced tea as she was still letting the wine from the other day pass through her system. Also she knew if she didn't with-hold her alcohol intake she'd be much easier to persuade. So she sufficed on stealing occasional sips from Bill's tequila which in the end she found too strong anyway.

They decided on two well recommended dishes to share and an appetizer of nachos drenched in cheese. The music grew more a live as the night progressed. More couples were going up to dance and Spanish men in black attire were grabbing random people from their tables to get up and dance. Whenever one of these so called 'dancers' approached Beatrix and Bill's table Beatrix gave them a nasty glare and they immediately averted to another table. She wasn't allowing Bill to get up and dance any time soon and neither was she.

Her reasons for not dancing? It wasn't necessarily embarrassment although there were clear signs of it. Beatrix was never ashamed of anything. She could flash someone and not give a damn. This type of characteristic was derived from having to do the most outrageous and embarrassing things during an assignment just to get the target killed. If she had to dance during an assignment she could fake it but if she were to dance now she wouldn't be faking it. Perhaps that being the reason she denied to try. But, she knew if Bill was set on an idea he wasn't going to give up on it.

So, as they were finishing off the last of the nacho chips the tall blonde began slowly but loud enough over the music, "If you plan on using your methods of persuasion on me I suggest you try now because I do not plan to dance on a full stomach." She narrowed slender brows on him, her expression coy. "And, keep in mind I've always been the hardest shell to crack when it comes to persuasion because I don't fall for much of your bullshit."

Bill gave her a smile that could be classified as deviously wicked, "It sounds to me," he said coyly, "...that you're asking me to ask you to dance." He put up a hand, "Fine...very well..," the sarcasm was obvious in his tone, even with the loud music, "....I can hardly blame you for wanting to. You can barely stand to just sit there and watch. I can see the anticipation on your face." He chuckled with amusement, as this only got him a nasty glare from the tall blonde; he stood up and set down his napkin. He then slowly removed his jacket and then with equal deliverance, he rounded the short distance of the table...an amused but intense look focused on Beatrix.

He bent down, and tenderly brushed strands of blonde hair away from her ear, which he then bent further down to whisper into, "My first point...you're in Paris...who knows when you'll get another opportunity to dance in Paris. My second point...there are so many other people on that floor, nobody is going to give a damn...or even know who you are. My third point...life's far too short to sit and do nothing. My forth point...I know what I'm doing...and I think you know that you're in safe hands when I know what I'm doing. My fifth point....."...he then said a long string of heavily accented Spanish words that were impossible to translate, but had the ring of something suggestive, "..My sixth point...I think it would be fun...and how often do we get to really have fun?"

He pulled away, attempting to give her the most imploring face he could manage. When he was younger, he used to be able to pull it off pretty well.....but it wasn't as easy nowadays. But, hell...it was worth a try. "Come on Kiddo....," he held his hand out to her, "...if not, you'll eventually end up getting pulled out and have to dance with one of those black suited, hyperactive, mariachi's...and I assure you.....you'll be much happier with me."

Beatrix stared at his extended hand as if contemplating her next move. She had two choices; take it or not take it. He made six liable reasons to get up and dance. She especially agreed with the last two. Well, if she didn't take his hand she'd end up with one of the mariachis and if they laid a hand on her she'd likely break it. There was less likely a chance she'd end up breaking Bill's hand.

Blue eyes did a quick sweep of the surrounding area and back to Bill's hand. She pursed her lips. "Fine," she placed her hand in his and rose to her full height. The tall blonde didn't look ultimately pleased into being dragged out on to the crowded dance floor. It was rather large considering the amount of people bouncing around to the upbeat music. She was use to the loud string of music that could make a person's teeth vibrate and leaned in close to Bill when they found a vacant spot to reside.

She put of a sly smirk to cover up her real facade. "The last time," she began loud enough for Bill to hear and the rest of the crowd oblivious. "I danced, I was on assignment and in the process numerous limbs were...lost."

Bill looked extremely pleased that he had gotten Beatrix out onto the floor...but he didn't gloat, that would just piss her off. It was perfect timing, as an appropriately upbeat flamingo style song started. He returned her sly smile, "I would prefer...." he grabbed her by the waist, bringing her into a close dancing position in one swift movement, so close her nose nearly touching his, "....that I kept all of my limbs," he raised an eyebrow, "But...I'll keep that warning in mind." And with that he spun her out at arm's length, only to rein her back in. "Don't think about it, just follow my lead and for Christ's sake, try to have fun."

Indeed, Bill quickly proved that he was something of a very adept Spanish dancer, especially for a white man. He kept a close reign on Beatrix, and spun her through a series of seemingly complicated but fluid movements. "When I was a boy," he spoke into her ear, when they were at close proximity again, "Estiban used to make me dance with some of the smaller of his whores. They thought I was cute and Estiban insisted that any man who wishes to be a cultured gentleman, not only learn how to read and write well...but learn how to dance well," He spun the tall blonde out again, twisting around behind her, he spoke again, "He told me...," he once again dropped into a thick accent that Beatrix would find out years later was a fairly good impression of Estiban, "...Bill..you must learn the salsa...the tango, the rumba," a dramatic roll of the "r" on this one, "...and even the lambada...the forbidden dance." He chuckled, "It was years later until, I realized that dancing..rather...suggestively with prostitutes was not what most ten year old boys did." He spun her out again. His talking to her was mainly to keep her mind off of what she was doing and in fact, the less attention she paid the better.

Most important with Spanish dancing, was not necessarily the moves, but the passion involved. It was about the way one moved. There was no denying the amount of dignified sexuality that prevailed.

Bill dropped Beatrix into a plummeting dip, her head inches from the floor, freezing there momentarily with his face close to hers. He gave her a wicked grin, "So far....I still have all my limbs..."

Beatrix laughed lightly and raised her own brows at him. "Yes, you do but that doesn't mean I haven't been tempted." She delivered her own wicked smile as Bill pulled her back up and she came in close again. To be honest she was having fun and a lot of it. Bill's recollection of past events in his life always kept her fascinated which was a great tactic to keep her mind off what they were really doing. She was never a fan of dancing but she never disliked it.

The whole prospect of dancing with Bill on a lively Spanish derived dance floor in the midst of Paris was a bit unfathomable. But it was happening and this was reality and better yet it was a reality away from the reality she was use too. Bill was turning out to be quite the dancer and it was impervious.

As he twirled her around and met her half way she suggestively canted her head to her chest and spoke calmly, "You know, Bill, I find this side of you quite sexy." It was partial truth as well as it was hilarious. The entire concept of two killers dancing and enjoying themselves said a lot in many different ways.

Bill flashed her a wide grin, quite pleased to hear those words out of her mouth, "You will find...Kiddo, that I have many more pleasurable sides than perceived," there was a suggestive raise of an eyebrow, as he once again spun her out. While somewhat dramatically delivered, there was truth to that. Bill had an almost dizzying variety of sides to his personality. It was one of the best and yet more frustrating things about his persona. He was a cold blooded killer...yes, but he wasn't called the Snake Charmer for no reason. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he'd suddenly unveil some hidden side to himself. Sometimes that side was quite freighting, others....surprisingly pleasant.

"You really should dance more," he murmured in Beatrix's ear, as he spun around behind her. "You have the right figure for it," with that, he smoothly unwrapped her wound arm so she came to halting stop face to face and chest to chest with him right as the music stopped.

He smiled, slightly sweaty and out of breath, "Now, that wasn't too torturous was it?"

"I'm not screaming or bleeding to death on the dance floor," she remarked with added sarcasm and the fact she was being a plain smart ass. Beatrix leaned in, which wasn't that much considering how close they were and kissed him. It was a short but passionate one to finish off the sensuality of their Spanish dancing.

She slowly broke it and turned her head. "Just in time," she said and took his hand to lead him back to the table were the food had been delivered moments before. Everything looked delicious and considering the fact she had worked up an appetite. The entrees were just as good as they looked and the two had fun sharing.

In time the platters were more or less licked clean and the tall blonde was slouched back in the chair obviously gaining the effects of eating too much. Blue eyes were half lidded as she viewed Bill from across the table. The music in the background had gone low key due to the fact the band was taking a break and many other couples were enjoying their meals.

Bill had had a little too much tequila at this point. He wasn't sloshed...he generally left such self embarrassment to his brother, but he was feeling a little fuzzy, which was only intensified with the general spiciness of the whole evening. Like Beatrix, he was slouched back in his chair, arm draped over the back, as he watched her watch him under equally halfway hooded eyes.

He gave her a lopsided smile, "Were you really serious those months ago...," he began in a soft lazy tone of voice, "...at that bar, when you said that in high school you were looking for...what was it....a charming, sophisticated.....masochistic man?" Bill rarely forgot much, even random conversations. "Or...was that simply for my benefit?" He wasn't try to pick her apart, in fact, he was merely curious....in perhaps a slightly intoxicated sort of way.

Beatrix stared at him for five seconds rerunning what he said in her head. She knew he had a tad too much to drink which could have been what brought on the question. She was hardly sloshed. She was physically exhausted which only brought on the characteristics of intoxication and being casually laid back. Even so she was surprised he remembered that far back, to her it seemed like ages ago.

"Yes…and no," she replied flatly. "I wanted someone charming and sophisticated…but in high school I'm not sure I even knew what masochistic 'really' meant…until I met you." She flashed a timid smirk. She wanted to be careful on this subject because if she said something wrong it could back fire and the last thing she wanted was to ruin a perfect night.

"Wanting a masochistic man was for your benefit…" She trailed off and waved a dismissive hand. "Well, that and I was still pissed at you for the airport incident." Wait, was that even around that time period? Maybe she had had too many 'stolen' sips of Bill's tequila. She shifted in her seat. "Or maybe I was cooling off from that spree in the back yard…" An innocent shrug of her shoulders.

Bill gave her a lazy smile, not in the least surprised at her confession. "Hrm...I figured that masochistic thing was for my benefit," he gave a slight roll of his shoulders, which could be called a shrug, "Although, I'm very glad I could give you a clear definition for the word," he chuckled. His look became briefly dark at the mention of the airport thing. He hadn't quite forgiven himself entirely for that whole episode. He gave a small tipsy shake of the head, as if refusing to talk about that. But the look quickly dissolved into something far warmer and amused as she brought up, the aptly titled, 'spree in the back yard.' "Hrm...yes...," he leaned into his resting elbow, "I don't think I've ever fully cooled off from that...." there was an unmistakable glint in his eye as he said that. He reached out and finished off the small amount of tequila in his glass, and then pushed the empty glass away from him towards Beatrix, as if to make her the permanent guardian of it.

He waved his hand, as if summoning up some thought he'd just had and desperately was trying to cling on to, "I can't....really remember what kind of woman I wanted when I was high school aged....I think my only qualification was she had to be uncommonly beautiful," he laughed, seemingly more at himself, "...pompous kid that I was...." then again..had he really changed all that much? ".....especially since the first woman...if she could even have been qualified as one....I was ever with was some...." he again searched for some appropriate adjective, "....sucio barato mujerzuela....a whore..," another chuckle,"....it was horrible...." He glanced up at Beatrix, with a smirk, noting her expression. Perhaps that had been a bit too much. "No more tequila for me...I'm done...."

Beatrix was holding the tequila glass firmly between long white fingers as if taking on her responsibilities as guardian seriously. Her lips curved in half a smile mixed with a smirk that read 'oh my God'. When Beatrix became drunk, as was exampled months back with the wine, she became more bubbly and fun, taking on traits that she showed in her younger years. These type of reactions brought on by liquor were hard to catch just as Bill's reactions brought on by liquor were reactions that only Beatrix saw as being way over the top.

"Shit, no more tequila for you ever," she set the glass back on the table with a dramatic thud. Blue eyes narrowed on him and she sat up, folding her arms on the table top and leaning forward. "But, this so called sucio barato mujerzuela has caught my attention. Enlighten me."

Bill chuckled a little longer than normal. He hadn't meant to say that....not really, but her wanting to hear about it only amused him further. He draped his head over the back of his chair, in a moment of thought. He had to dig deep for that information, and in his current state it took a few moments longer.

Finally, he leaned forward against the table, a thin sheen of sweat glinting off his forehead, "Well..." he began, obviously relishing in this, "....I think I was thirteen, fourteen...I can't remember...anyways, my friend Julio...not the recently departed bear, but the not so recently departed friend of mine...he shows up at my place..telling me that he's find some girls that will fuck us for free." Bill wasn't about to weaken any words, especially with Beatrix, "..I thought he was full of shit...like I usually did. Well, somehow he convinced me...I don't really remember...probably didn't take much....he was like that. Anyways, we show up....somewhere...I think it was a park of some sort. I don't remembering being all too classy..." a smirk, "So..there's these two girls there...they said they were nineteen..but I'd say they weren't a day over sixteen. And Julio was right...they said they'd fuck us for nothing..," he paused, recollecting his thoughts, "Now...keep in mind, I'd grown up around whores....I knew how it all worked..even at that point...but..I was also thirteen..and getting some was more important. Worst of all, Julio had told them that we'd fucked all sorts of girls....and that we were good. Bad move.

So...this....mujerzuela...she had dark hair...I thought she was pretty at first...but, the closer I got to her..I realized she had just caked on some cheap corner store makeup over a not so pretty face." He shrugged, "But hell...I wasn't going to turn it down. She said she thought I was cute for 'En Americano muchacho'...or some bullshit." He paused for a few long seconds, again...attempting to piece together the old memory, "She made me take my pants off.....and when I tried to take my shirt off, she told me to leave it on. I tried to kiss her, and she pushed me away. She kept telling me to hurry up and stop trying to kiss her...'just the fuck' she said." He chuckled, "Now...keep in mind..I was trying to be cool about it...ya know...trying to think about what I'd seen in smutty movies. She didn't want any of that...and she quickly realized I was just some cherry kid. When I finally did manage to fumble my way through the whole thing...which lasted all of fifty seconds...tops, she just shoved me off of her. She laughed at me and said it was so awful she should have charged me." His smile became slightly brittle, "It's a little hazy. What I do remember vividly...was afterwards....hating the way she smelled, the way she looked.

I swore to myself that, from that moment on..the only women I'd sleep with would be beautiful...and not just commonly beautiful...but...exceptional." He stopped, a bemused smile on his face. He was leaning heavily on his elbow now, and he raised his eyebrows at Beatrix, "And...that's that...nothing groundbreaking......thankfully, I never saw that mujerzuela again.."

Beatrix had listened to Bill's story of the mujerzuela whore intently. She always listened to his stories. This surely wasn't one of his more logical and meaningful stories. The idea of little Bill trying to fuck some whore for free and apparently having done a horrendous job was fascinating. This was especially humorous considering how 'good' Bill was now.

She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest casually. Blue eyes watched in almost a stoic manner as the waiter came over and cleared away their plates. Once the waiter left she spoke up, "I think we should track down that whore and you should fuck her again." She quickly added on to this, "Because then it would only prove to her what a mistake she made by telling you that you were awful." This was a discrete compliment as Bill's saying that he only wanted exceptionally beautiful women was a compliment to Beatrix. Blue eyes then narrowed questionably on him. "Didn't living with a pimp for an ungodly amount of years teach you anything?" Well, it taught him dancing, a somewhat bizarre perception of being wise, and how to fuck. But, the fucking part only seemed to have caught on in his later years which she was not, not thankful for.

She wove a hand around dismissively. She was tired and her words were running. "Nevermind, don't tell me…" Beatrix sat up in her chair and put her shoulders back to a better posture. Her laid back and sloshed persona switched effortlessly back to something more put together and placid. "Come my sophisticated, charming, masochistic, lover let's get you back to the hotel before we both drop dead."

Bill had opened his mouth to give a reply to her question, which most likely was very informative yet highly off color and vulgar...but he shut it with a chuckle. What she had just said....all of it....every single word, was highly amusing, flattering and strangely sexy. He watched her with intense fondness as she stood up, not finding anything worthy of a reply in his hazy mind. After a moment he stood up as well, and took his time steadying himself before wrapping his arm around Beatrix's shoulders as they headed out of the restaurant. The crowd was thinning and they were one of the last couples to leave. The host gave them a polite nod and smile as they left, which Bill returned with equal enthusiasm.

He practically leaned on Beatrix the entire walk back to the hotel, this was probably only partially due to his alcohol intake. By the time they got to the hotel, he was feeling far more clear headed, but the effects of the exceptionally pleasant night were only stronger. It might have been slightly due to the alcohol, but that was not really it....it had been everything: the atmosphere, the dancing, the whole conversation, her as her always irresistible self, Paris... Well, whatever it was, Bill was having a hard time keeping his hands off of her.

On the elevator ride up to their floor, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "You've now danced in Paris...." he murmured, "....but you've yet to make love in Paris....." Thankfully, nobody else was in the elevator at the time.

After what seemed like an eternity to Bill, they finally reached their room. He let Beatrix go in first and then shut and locked the door behind them. He turned around; his back leaned up against the door and stared across the expanse of the room at her with a look that would make Arizona in July look cold in comparison.

Now Beatrix was officially burned out. She was drenched in a glistening sheet of sweat, blonde bangs and loose strands were plastered against her face, and her chest was heaving up and down with quick breathes in a manner of hyperventilating but she was getting plenty of oxygen. Her exhausted body lay a good ten to twelve inches away from Bill on the enormous bed as she was far too hot for after-sex cuddling.

When they first arrived back in the hotel room Beatrix knew she couldn't deny that lustful and highly passionate look she had been receiving from the man across the room. She couldn't tell him no because she was tired and wanted to go to bed. If she had she had her worries he'd do something drastic, which she wouldn't count against his capability of doing so. So, she gave in but not unwillingly and it was intense.

She blamed that on the tequila.

Finally she caught her breath or parts of it and idly turned her head to gaze on Bill. A weary smile crossed her tired features.

Bill returned the smile with equal contentment and weariness through a curtain of hair. He'd yet to really catch his breath, and couldn't quite find the needed oxygen to speak at the moment. He was lying on his chest, back upturned....it's surface dominated by two long scars that made a slightly off center X and the distinctive pinched dot of a bullet exit scar near his shoulder blade. Not exactly the typical sight that most young women caught their breath in bed next to.

Bill knew Beatrix probably would have rather just gone to sleep right away and he appreciated her not entire unwillingness to indulge him. He only could hope to return the favor at some point. He was quickly figuring out, that no matter how much effort to not turn sex between the two of them into a ragingly intense act of passion, it never failed to happen....this was as exhausting as it was amazing. They couldn't just have some pleasant, quiet little row......oh no...instead, he felt as if he'd just died in the most exquisitely pleasurable way possible, and then slowly crawled back into the world deprived of oxygen and devoid of energy. It was amazing.

"I drank too much," he finally mumbled, a more than obvious statement. "I can't believe...I told you the whole thing about that whore.....," he brushed strands of hair out of his face, "...hrm....sorry about that..." a weak smile.

Beatrix was going to laugh but laughing required too much breath so a smirk surfaced on her sweaty features. She extended an arm and wove it over her head and said, "I can't believe you got drunk." She was…shocked, to say the least. Bill never got drunk. He always left the antics to Budd and when comparing the affects of alcohol on each brother it was entirely different.

"I was not drunk," Bill replied sternly, but still with a smile, "I.....," he searched for the right word, taking long enough that it was only funnier, "....was a little tipsy." He laughed suddenly, giving it all away, "I haven't had that much tequila in years....Jesus...." Budd would never let him live it down if he found out.

Beatrix's hand came down and landed lightly against Bill's back and rested there nonchalantly. She used her other hand to grab the side of the bed sheet and wiped the cloth over her face. "You'll be pleased to know you weren't…awful," Beatrix's muffled voice said under the sheet that was now sticking to her forehead and covering her face.

His smile turned sly after her second comment, "That's good to hear..." he chuckled. Many men didn't do so well when under the influence of alcohol, apparently he was an exception. Of course, he already knew that.....he wouldn't have put himself in a situation to fail. Bill was more than aware of what he was capable of....in a variety of categories. He wiped a hand across his face, in an attempt to clear away some sweat, "I'm also not exactly thirteen anymore..," he smirked, "...thankfully. Although, I could deal with twenty five or thirty..." He fell silent in a moment of nostalgia, his hand reaching out and casually running through Beatrix's extremely tussled locks of hair.

"You don't want to be twenty five. It's boring," she replied coming out from under the sheet. She was a little less sweaty but that was only her face that she had wiped off. Of course she was joking. She was twenty five and she found her life far from boring.

Beatrix casually rolled onto her side to face him and propped a single hand beneath her cheek and the other at her side. Blue eyes stared passed him to view the digital alarm clock on the end table. Her slender brows narrowed as she turned her fond gaze back to him. "We have three hours to sleep and then I drag you out to catch some early morning tourism." She smiled, a pinch of playfulness mixed in.

Bill's sleepy gaze widened momentarily, "Three hours? You're fucking kidding....," she wasn't, at least not entirely, he could tell, "Oh god......," he groaned and rolled onto his side to look at the clock. "Alright..." If anybody could handle getting up early, it was Bill. And even if he couldn't, he wasn't going to show it....she'd just have a heyday with that. He reached up and turned off the dim bedside light, the only one that had been on, and laid back down. He gave Beatrix a brief kiss before quickly fading off into sleep.


	19. Paris: Kissing the Dead

Bill awoke to the sounds of Beatrix moving about the room. It was early...too goddamn early. He didn't have the energy to roll over and look at the clock, but the still dark dawn light, spilling across the room told him it was earlier than he wanted it to be. "What time is it?" he croaked, attempting to get up with little success.

"Five o'clock," Beatrix replied in a voice that sounded much more awake than Bill's. She had been up for a total of thirty minutes and was already rummaging through the drawers to pick out her clothes for the day. She had had a hard time getting out of bed. She was so warm and safe beneath the blankets. She actually had planned to get up at four but she spent a half an hour inching to the edge of the bed until she finally rolled out.

Once she was out of bed and ran a warm shower she felt much more refreshed and awake. "Today," she began in a slightly jubilant tone of voice that was masked over with remaining grogginess. "We are sight seeing at two direct locations." This was a classic demand as she walked past the round table near the balcony doors and grabbed up a small pamphlet. As Bill was still lying in bed the tall blonde sauntered back over to him, clad in a bathrobe, and plopped down beside him. She idly opened the pamphlet and began reading a loud which could have been thought as cute if she wasn't so fucking tired the contents inside, "The Catacombs. Built in 1785, visitors will find themselves sixty five feet underground at this disturbing attraction. They will be working their way along corridors stacked with…bones. The tunnels were used by Resistance during WWII as a headquarters." Basically this was a 'cool' cemetery. "And," she added lightly. "Those over sixty can get in free." She playfully hit his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Damn, you're one year too young."

Bill watched her read, his cranky and groggy expression lessoning somewhat at the description of the creepy but fascinating sounding attraction. Beatrix had done a great job in picking something that both killers would find fascinating, and Bill had to admit he was suddenly quite looking forward to the day. If he could just get up. But he frowned at her little quip about his age, "That's two years...my dear...." he smirked, "...Give me my dues..." He kicked her off of the edge of the bed playfully, as he managed to sit up. He wrapped one of the bed's many afghans around himself and padded across the room, hair sticking out rather comically in all directions. He went over to his set of dresser drawers and began sifting through his clothing, "These catacombs sound cool," he said, as he picked out whatever he felt was appropriate, "And your paying for me right?" He sneered over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bathroom. If she ended up using up all the hot water...he was not going to be pleased.

Luckily, that was not the case and he emerged about fifteen minutes later fully dressed in jeans and a typical button up shirt, hair tied back and in it's brief wet state returned to it's full dark brown color...which was always a slightly strange sight. He sat on the edge of the bed, putting his shoes, watching her finish getting ready with a small smile on his face. "Alright, Miss Tour Guide...," he stood up, "...I'm following your lead."

One the way to the metro Beatrix and Bill stopped by a local café to grab some well needed coffee and they shared a pastry. Neither was that hungry from last nights extensive array of food and the light breakfast sufficed perfectly. This time they didn't get lost and had effectively arrived on the bus into the inners of Paris by seven o'clock in the morning. The bus was moderately crowded with those tourists just as willing to sight see as the rest. Beatrix had gotten up early enough to miss the early morning crowds as was suggested by the bell hop of the hotel.

They were seated towards the back of the bus and Beatrix was idly picking at the remains of the pastry that Bill didn't eat. Blue eyes were staring out the window for some time watching the scenery pass by in silence. She finally snapped away from the window and turned to Bill. He had his head turned away from her so she only viewed the back of it and his posture was slouched. The tall blonde narrowed her eyes on him and she harshly poked his side with a single digit. "It's rude to ignore someone after you've just slept with them," she muttered softly. Of course she was just playing around. Her mood was too pleasant to get irate over little things.

Bill turned towards her with a playful smirk, "You're right....that's rude of me," with that he suddenly wrapped her up in a smothering hug, attacking her face and neck with a few seconds of sarcastic kisses until she shoved him away somewhat violently. He chuckled, looking extremely amused, which only made her shove him again. This nearly caused both of them to drop their coffees in the process.

A couple kids who had been sitting on the seat across the isle from them were giggling at this sight. Bill turned and flashed the youngsters a smile before turning back to Beatrix.

He quickly toned down the sarcasm, and wrapped a genuine arm around her shoulders, looking out the window at her side. It was difficult to tell exactly where they were going without knowing Paris better, but everything they passed looked quite old.

He rested his head against hers, eyes still focused on the scenery flying by, content and looking forward to whatever morbid spectacle they were about to witness. "Where'd you find out about these Catacombs?" he murmured.

Beatrix shrugged her shoulders gently and raised her coffee cup to her lips. "When you were napping the other day," she said and cut off herself by taking an intermission to slug down a portion of her coffee. "I went down to the reception desk and asked for information on things we don't want to miss." She let the coffee cup settle on her lap as her gaze focused on the window, her head still touching his. A small smirk curved into her smile. "I think he thought I would like the creepy stuff because he immediately suggested this place. And he also gave us coupons." She turned her head to him, blue eyes beaming. "It's almost like I'm paying for you to get in for free."

Bill smiled, "Oh, so you are paying for me.....even if you aren't..." He laughed, "Hrm..if only I was two years older..." This 'old' joke was becoming a continuous bit of humor between the two of them. "The man at reception probably thought you looked sadistic...thinking to himself...'now here's a woman who would love spending her day looking at skeletons underneath the ground with some old guy'," he gave her a scary look, which...was actually pretty scary, "Very sexy..." He gave her shoulders a squeeze, finishing off his coffee...which was exceptionally strong...especially with none of that sugary crap Beatrix liked added to it.

The bus ride continued pleasantly enough. The loud children across the isle were starting to get on Bill's nerves, but he did his best to watch the scenery and chat idly with Beatrix. Eventually the bus arrived at its destination. Luckily the groups of children were getting off at the next stop leaving Beatrix and Bill to step out alone. The surrounding area wasn't much to look at. There was a large building which was the information and sign up center, a few ancient looking pieces of architect that was beginning to chisel with age, and a few scattered buildings. Basically the area was obsolete.

Beatrix tenderly led Bill inside. The building consisted of a front desk, a few chairs, posters on the walls, and off to the right was a promising looking souvenir shop. The tall blonde approached the counter were a young woman in a t-shirt that read 'Catacombs'. She was obviously of French origin but she spoke perfect English. "Welcome to the Catacombs, how may I help you?"

Since Bill had designated Beatrix to take care of the details on the sight seeing she spoke up putting on a pleasant smile. "Hello, we'd like to sign up for one of the tours."

"Wonderful!" The woman then began to ask various questions such as; name, methods of payment, the tour time they'd like to go on, and a few unimportant but daunting questions. Finally everything was set, "Now, your tour should be leaving in a minute. Got here just in time. Make sure you show your tour guide your tickets and have fun!"

Beatrix gave a polite thank you and walked with Bill over to the 'waiting' area. She handed him a ticket stub, a smirk evident on her face. Bill hadn't been too close by while she was paying for the tickets and now was the perfect time to start snickering. "You know, Bill, I only had to pay for one ticket." This caught his attention. She tilted her chin down and leaned up against the wall in a haughty manner. "The lady at the cashier's desk musta thought you were sixty when I pointed you out. I wasn't going to argue." The best part was, she hadn't even been trying to come off as sadistic with this turn of events, it just conveniently turned out that way.

Bill looked up at Beatrix with a obviously put on hurt look, "Ya know Kiddo.....your about to go down into a set of underground catacombs with a man who's been killing people for nearly forty years..it's an ideal location..." he raised an eyebrow, a smirk showing up in the process, giving away the humor intended, "...you'd better be nice to me...." he stood up, invading her personal space very aptly, "..or..I just might have to.." But he turned, at the sound of footsteps, as it appeared a couple more people had shown up to hang out in the waiting area until the tour guide showed up to lead them down into the tunnels. Bill gave the tall blonde a sidelong sneer, as he fell silent, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his hand wrapping around her neck in just the slightest threat of a choking gesture. Just for good measure, he then cast a glare across the waiting area at the reception desk and the peppy looking thing working behind it.

"I could go show her my ID," he whispered in Beatrix's ear. It was an alias ID, but the age was unchanged, "Then, you'd have to pay for me...and forget the coupons, I snatched those out of your pocket on the bus," he brought his own hand out of his jeans pocket, the folded coupons in between his fingers.

"I thought I might have needed the collateral..." He gave her a wise ass expression.

"Fucking bastard," the now irate tall blonde muttered between clenched teeth. Beatrix was still in a good mood but now she was mixed between good and bad. She raised a hand to try and make a grab for the coupons but Bill was quick to move them out of her reach. She couldn't exactly budge and retrieve them either seeing as Bill was keeping tight to her shoulder, almost so she could feel the blood pooling into a bruise and she shifted uncomfortably.

Okay, she got the message that he didn't want her fucking about this age anymore and she was inclined to cool down on the joke. But only cool down. She raised her own slender brows and blue eyes, now having dropped a few fifty degrees glared at him. "Ya know, Bill…" she mocked quietly. "The money I'm using to pay for all of this," she tilted her chin up and held a pretentious façade. "…Is the money you pay me with. The last thousand remains I have of my cut off pay." The last bit was hissed out. Usually she wasn't pissed about her depilated and held back salary but today it irked her. "You're loss baby."

Oh, now she was going to play this game. Bill's expression turned somewhat harder, as he continued to keep a firm grip on her shoulders, "My loss?" He murmured, sure to keep his voice low around the group of gathering tourists. "Shall I bring up why you aren't still getting paid, hrm? Do we really want to go back over that territory? That was a worthy attempt to throw at me, but I'm not going to give you pity when it comes to your little salary hold. You're not going to be forced to live on the street anytime soon just because you had to pay for an extra ticket...which, by the way, you aren't." He lowered his voice even more, leaning towards her ear, "You haven't heard me bring up how much anything has cost me now have you? Why? Because it's fucking irrelevant. But, if it's so important to you Kiddo, your first paycheck off suspension, which you will receive in no less than two weeks, will more than aptly pay for whatever my fucking ticket would have cost you....not to mention a good amount of this entire trip." With that, he let go of her shoulders, "I'm going to go use the little boy's room," he said flatly, and without another word to her, stalked off in the direction the restroom sign pointed to.

Obviously, Bill was no longer all that amused.

Beatrix scowled in his general direction as he departed to the restroom. She now stood there rubbing gingerly at her shoulder which didn't hurt as bad as she was over dramatizing it. The crowd around her was beginning to thicken. Beatrix stood there trying to appear nonchalant as her thoughts ran off.

She came to the quiet conclusion that had been their first 'fight' since they arrived in Paris. Counting that against how many 'fights' that had gotten in, in the past month showed a drastic change in status. As irked as she remained at Bill in those five minutes he used in the bathroom she was pleased that that had been the first and they had been in Paris for a solid three days already. She also drew on the fact that the 'fight' was fucking stupid. It was partially her fault for playing around with Bill's age when she knew if she continued she'd get burnt. This brought in the characteristic of being a risk taker.

Beatrix would admit to herself and only herself that this time around she had been wrong. She could let her thoughts run far enough away to begin to dawn on the reality of Bill but that wouldn't go over well. So, when Bill returned from his fling in the little boy's room she decided to go with the non-hostile approach.

She leaned into him when he came back up beside her and whispered, "Usually when couples fight, afterwards they kiss and makeup."

Bill returned with a completely neutral expression on his face. He was no stranger to relationships with women...he'd had quite a few of them in his life, granted...the longest they had ever lasted was eight months or so, but he was rather well practiced in the art of "Fighting With Thine Woman and Surviving" tactics. The escape to the men's room was a classic tactic...although it also wasn't a bad idea before going underground. Beatrix's warmer recpetion to him meant one of two things: she still thought he'd been a complete asshole about it but was willing to forgive him because the whole thing had been ridicuously stupid, or she realized she'd been wrong but wasn't going to tell him she'd been...on top of the whole thing being ridiculously stupid...or a combination of both. Well, either way...Bill knew the appropriate reaction.

Still looking neutral, he reached out and clasped her hand. He then turned his head and whispered in her ear, "Do you want me to kiss you now...in front of all these people? Or wait until we get underground and kiss you in front of a bunch of dead people?" A hint of a smirk played on his otherwise neutral face.

Beatrix muffled her laugh with a hand. The laugh successfully suppressed she let her hand drop to her side and blue eyes settled on her man. The man she was willing to forgive for the moment, or at least forgive herself and put past words and actions behind her. "Save it for the dead. They'll enjoy it more," she replied with a sly sparkle in her façade. Her gaze slowly drifted over to the single door in the building besides the entrance as a man walked out. He was of middle aged, French origin, he wore a pair of jeans and a black baggy t-shirt that was partially tucked in, he had the beginnings of a mustache giving him a gruff appearance, and he had greased up black hair that was ruffled into spikes and tarnishing bits of gray along his residing hair line. Not the greatest looking guy in the world but the wide toothy grin he held looked promising.

"Come, come," he beckoned the crowd in a worthy English accent. "We will be beginning the tour shortly, please give me your tickets as you walk through." The crowd of people began to shuffle to the doors upon request, each holding out a ticket.

Beatrix flicked out Bill's ticket beneath his nose and didn't say a word as tempted as she was. She did give him a look before joining the crowds to hand in their tickets.

"My name is Gilles and I will be your tour guide for today," said the man now known as Gilles as the 'tourists' stood in the middle of a tight entry way. "A few rules before we begin; photography is allowed, no eating or drinking inside the catacombs, throw your trash away, no smoking, and please do not wander off. If you wander off I will not be held responsible for what the…dead…will do to you." This received a mild chuckle throughout the crowd. Gilles continued, "If you have any questions feel free to ask. Now, let us begin."

Gilles lead the group consisting of a good fifteen people down a dimly lit corridor. The corridor soon opened up into an obvious cave entrance. Gilles stopped the group at the entrance. "The catacombs here in Paris were built mainly due to the fact the local cemeteries were being over crowded. The cemetery was so overcrowded that its soil was more than eight feet over the level of the street. In 1780, infiltrations caused some deadly accidents. The King decided, five years later, the transfer of bones in the quarries of "Mont-Rouge", at this time out of Paris and currently under the Denfert-Rochereau square. On April 7, 1786, the curate of the archbishop of Paris proceeded to the consecration of the catacombs. Now, as we continue into the catacomb you will come face to face with those that were not worthy to be buried in the local cemeteries or there families could not afford it. Some of the more…dangerous people…in the past centuries' skulls are displayed within these walls. Feel free to examine and touch the skulls…if you have the…guts. They will not bite." He wove a hand over his shoulder. "Come, come."

He led the group further into the catacomb. Finally they came to the main event. The room was circular and large enough to hold another ten tourist groups. The room was lit with oil lamps scattered along the walls, sending shadows to flicker and bounce in various directions. The sight to behold was the thousands upon thousands of human skulls embedded into the walls. They were old obviously ranging from being dead for hundreds of years and had a dirty appearance. "Look around, explore," Gilles said as people began to scatter.

Beatrix had already dragged Bill over to one of the walls and was examining the skulls with the utmost fascination. "This is very cool," she mused as a single digit traced along the decaying jaw line of some dead guy's skull. She glanced to Bill with a prominent look of bliss.

Bill had remained fairly stoic throughout all of these proceedings. Large amount of tourists annoyed him and he wasn't so sure about this Gilles guy. But, as they slowly descended further under the ground and Gilles provided some background history on the place, Bill became gradually more interested. These Catacombs had a very provocative history, and Bill liked provocative histories. He found it fascinating that so many people were considered unworthy or could simply not afford to be buried. Then again, at the time France had been a fairly corrupted monarchal society. He especially thought the bit about dangerous people being buried here to be particularly interesting, to Bill, dangerous people held the most interest.

When they entered the main chamber, any last vestiges of wariness or former crankiness instantly dissolved within Bill. This was wickedly cool. It was like some warped version of a mass grave. There were so many bones, it was impossible to even tell some of them apart in places. Bill had seen a lot of grosser things in his lifetime, but there was something so decayed and overwhelming about this place that made it really fascinating. He wasn't a spiritual person in even the most remote sense, but it was.....rather creepy in that sort of way. He loved it.

Bill was so busy looking up at one particular part of the towering wall, that he simply let Beatrix drag him around, his attention still on the wall. He forced himself to look down at Beatrix's words, "Hell yes....this is so cool..." he breathed, returning her smile. He looked over her shoulder at a group of skeletons embedded in the wall behind her, "Look at this..." he said enthusiastically, getting closer to the wall. His hand traced along a skull, "I bet this was a young child...probably a girl," it was a little scary how much Bill knew about such things. But it was useful to know such things when you were a killer, and besides, it didn't take too much training to be able to pinpoint basic skeletal features. There was another skull nearby that caught Bill's attention. "Look at this one Kiddo..." he placed a hand on it, "...look at the gash in it's frontal cranium....blunt head wound...you can tell because of the stress fractures spidering out from the hole. It took some real force to do that." He ran a hand along a femur.

The bones were so old, that they almost had a sanded down feel to them...like rocks on the beach that had been softened by constant erosion. Absorbed, Bill moved down the wall, "Check this out..." There was a rather strange assortment of bones that looked like the majority of a full set, but no head, "...poor bastard lost his head." He smiled at Beatrix with sadistic fascination.

Beatrix was pleased to know that Bill was enjoying the catacombs as much or more then she was. Arms were daintily crossed over her chest as she came over to Bill to inspect that decapitated set of bones engraved into the wall. It was all very fascinating and those blue eyes continued to remain wide in an awe effect.

She kept quiet for a few minutes as she followed Bill along the wall taking in the creepy sight before them. Beatrix was far from one to be creeped out by anything. There was that one time she saw someone disemboweled that hadn't sat too well with her but other then that her factors were slim. This was just plain cool and the tingling sensation running along her spine only made it more exciting.

"I think…" The tall blonde began as they stopped at a corner of the wall that displayed a totem of skulls, each holding a unique physical trait. "One of these guys might have been one of my targets." She smirked in Bill's general direction.

Bill laughed, which made a few people on the other side of the catacomb turn and briefly look at him. There wasn't a whole lot of laughing going on at the moment....except in Bill and Beatrix's cases. He came up beside her to gaze up at the skull totem..which frankly looked badass in Bill's mind. A small version of it would make a pretty damn cool sword handle actually. "That would explain the dismembered head," he chuckled, "Seeing as your so fond of that little trick." It also helped when you had a sword capable of cutting through cervical vertebrae. Bill continued to run his hands over random bones jutting out from the wall, he was a fairly tactile person and obviously had no problem with the dead.

He spotted a baby or perhaps small toddler skeleton, but decided not to point it out to Beatrix....she might find that a bit morbid, she'd probably find it on her own anyways. "There were a lot of shorter people back then," he murmured, examining a set of femurs. He almost made a snide comment about short French people, but decided against it. Something caught his eye and he crouched down, motioning Beatrix over, "Look....this man had six fingers...."

Beatrix made haste over to Bill and joined him in a similar crouched position. She steadied herself on her heels and settled hands on her thighs. She spotted the six fingered skeleton and stared. The idea of someone walking around with six fingers hundreds of years ago was humorous as it was cool. Her eyes traveled up a few inches and found each skull more peculiar then the other.

The tour went on for another twenty minutes as other people in the group were getting bored. There was only so long 'normal' people could stand around and idolize dead people. Beatrix and Bill could have stayed there all day inspecting each and every skull to its full integrity. But the tour came to an end and Gilles was beginning to usher everyone out of the catacombs. The two killers were hanging back obviously taking their time to get to the exit. They walked hand in hand, eyes still roaming the cavern walls but Beatrix spared a look at Bill and halted him quite suddenly. Slender brows raised a fraction as she stated lightly, "All of these dead people have been waiting very patiently..."

Bill wanted to stay there longer, but he realized that the rest of the group was getting antsy to get out of the spooky cavern and he and Beatrix were forced to resign to walk as slow as possible as they left. The rest of the group was already a good ten feet in front of them, being bustled out by Gilles.

Bill stared at Beatrix for a brief second with a quizzical look, but he quickly realized what she was talking about. Of course, she wouldn't forget. He gave her sly look, "That they have....we'd better make it worth they're while then...," with a chuckle he pulled her to him and placing his hands on the sides of her face, he leaned in and gave her one hell of a kiss. This was no small, short, peck of a kiss either. Bill imagined if this moment had been in a movie, it would be the ideal moment for the camera to pan over them with a long shot of them embracing in the end of a huge dim cavern of thousands of wall embedded skeletons. It would make for a really bizarre but oddly romantic moment.

As this rather lengthy kiss persisted, a middle aged woman near the back of the departing group happened to turn and around and spot them. "Oh my god...." she drawled in a proper British accent, looking utterly revolted. With a look of horror planted on her face, she quickly spun back around and began pushing through the people in front of her with her large purse as a sheild, so as to get out of there as quickly as possible.

After what seemed like a very blissful eternity, Bill pulled away from Beatrix..although, not that far away. He looked a little dazed, "Do you think the dead approve?" he said in a soft voice.

Beatrix had taken a long breath to retrieve the air she had lost during that kiss. Her face still inches from Bill's she had on a satisfied smile. Hell that had been one perfect kiss and she couldn't have picked a better atmosphere for it to acquire. She'd never get a kiss like that again. Blue eyes drifted over stoically to the array of skulls with their hallow eyes staring into the two killers. "Yes..." She replied but her words wavered on uncertainty.

She turned her head back to the man before her gazing fondly at him and pursed her lips. "I think the dead would like an encore," she whispered seductively. But this time she didn't wait for an answer and brought Bill in for another round. This kiss wasn't as good as the first, nothing compared to a first kiss in an eerie tomb but this one came pretty damn close. Hands resting against his face she pulled away and let her forehead linger against his. "Now," she breathed. "…they approve."

Bill stared back at her, eyes ablaze with wonderment. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, but simply gazed back into those large blue eyes lit under nothing but the surrounding oil lamps. That had been....wonderful...perfect...and he was desperately searching for a better word. This become of the most unexpectedly romantic moments in his life....which was almost laughable it's complete bizarreness. But, if there was anything that he'd learned, it was often the most unexpected things that became so important to you. He gave Beatrix a gentle smile, fingertips brushing strands of hair away from her face. God, he loved this woman....who else would have done that with him in a cavern full of skeletons and obviously enjoyed it just as much as himself? He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly turned his head instinctually at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hello...? Yes...you two...please...we must get moving..." Gilles somewhat annoyed voice drifted into the cavern. The rest of the group had since moved on ahead and he'd obviously found two missing when he'd done a head count. It was hard to see his expression in the dim lighting, but he was no doubt probably a little weirded out at what he'd just walked into. Bill turned and gave Beatrix a somewhat regretful look, but quickly smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist, "Come on Kiddo....heaven forbid we stay down here any longer," he shot Gilles a glare, which the Frenchman either ignored or didn't see.

With that, Gilles led the two killers back to the rest of the group without another word to them. Bill kept glancing at Beatrix with an amused and contended smile. He hadn't quite recovered from that moment yet.


	20. Paris: Sleepy Time

"I'm going to put him on my mantel," Beatrix stated-matter-of-factly. The two killers had now returned to the hotel room. The shades were drawn indicating that night time had long since rolled around. They had just recently returned from a lovely dinner at a quaint restaurant. The food was as always wonderful but not as filling as the other night's. Which in this case as a good thing.

Well, Beatrix was referring to putting on her mantel a ceramic replica of one of the skull heads they had seen on their tour. She had been deciding in the gift shop for a good ten minutes between the skull and a t-shirt that read; I survived the Catacombs and I'm not Dead. The t-shirt was cute but it seemed a tad too cliché especially when Beatrix planned to wear it around her coworkers. That was a bad idea and Bill seemed to inform her of this. It made her decision easier to just buy the skull.

She was sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed staring across the way at the skull on top of the dresser. Her slender brows narrowed. "Or should I put him on my bed side table?"

Bill gazed intently at the ceramic skull from his sitting position on the floor, his back up against the side of the bed, bare feet crossed in front of him. He looked stoic, as if he was taking this whole skull placement very seriously.

"Well....that depends on whom you want to see it," he replied, "If you put him on your mantel more people are likely to see it. If you put him on your bedside table then a more select group will be given the viewing honors." Somewhere along the way Beatrix had decided the ceramic skull was a "he", and Bill was inclined to agree....it was a rather manly looking skull. He was glad she hadn't bought the shirt...it was cute, but it just didn't seem wise to own with Beatrix in her current predicament with the rest of the

DiVA's. Elle might take it too seriously and decide that Beatrix shouldn't have survived the Catacombs.

Bill wasn't going to buy anything, he wasn't big on gift shop stuff, but then he'd spotted a set of skull face cufflinks and decided he had to have them...even if they were a little cheesy. After all, he owned a number of borderline over the top cheesy pieces of clothing attire and seemed to have no problem wearing them.

He rubbed his chin, "Hrm...it's a tough choice Kiddo," he said dramatically, glancing up at her over his shoulder. "I'd say a very important decision, one you should give some serious thought to...."

Beatrix glanced down to him and then back up at her daunting decision. She leaned back letting flat palms behind her support her weight as blue eyes narrowed in on the skull. She really did like her skull and she had wanted Bill to get a matching one but when he pointed out the cufflinks she immediately insisted he buy them. Actually Bea wanted him to buy the t-shirt that read; Don't try me, you may end up in the catacombs. But Bill reminded her that he wasn't a t-shirt kind of guy and she was once again inclined to agree. The whole array of shirts with cheesy sayings was immensely amusing such as the shirt that read; I love my catacomb, 'When I die I want to be put in the catacomb, I went to the catacombs and all I got was this lousy t-shirt'.

Now after their escapade in the catacombs Beatrix had to figure out the appropriate place for her souvenir. She began to take in what Bill said about whom she wanted to view the skull. This brought her to the conclusion that if she put it in the bedroom only she and most likely Bill would see it. Then she moved on to further thoughts of the skull viewing her. It was a cool skull but those hallow eyes staring at her while she slept was a tad unsettling.

"He'll go on the mantel," she voiced a good ten minutes later. "That way he can keep guard over the apartment."

Bill had been sitting quietly the entire time Beatrix had been making this weighty decision. He had slipped into something of a meditation state at some point and opened his eyes when she finally made her choice.

"Good decision," he said softly with a similar smile, "You never know what sort of dirty old bastards might try to break into your apartment." He chuckled, but quickly became mellow again.

He let his head rest further against the side of the bed. "I think that was my favorite thing we've seen thus far," he remarked, "That's going to be hard to top....I don't even think the Bastille will be half as cool as that was." Indeed, Bill had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, many of them quite cool, but the catacombs were by far one of the coolest. Not only that, but being there with Beatrix was what really made it. Then again, doing even the most mundane things with her made them something else.

"Too bad you and Elle aren't on better terms, I think she was the only person living or dead who could really have appreciated the matching skull lighter, lipstick and garter set." He sure as hell wasn't going to buy it for her, she'd have taken it the completely wrong way.

Beatrix nodded slowly in agreement. When she first saw the set she was laughing out loud about it and how Elle would have loved it but afterwards it wasn't as funny. She slid down onto her stomach, elbows bent on the bed as open palms supported her chin. Blue eyes stared down idly at Bill. "Yes, it's too bad I'm not on better terms with any one," these words came out with more of a bitter after taste than expected.

She rolled over onto her back; her head settling close to Bill's that was leaning against the edge of the bed from his place on the floor. Locks of blonde hair spilt over the sides as she settled her hands over her stomach. "Besides," she added in a lighter tone. "Budd wouldn't take to the lipstick and certainly not the garter set."

Bill chuckled, "Perhaps not....but Budd has his own little twisted side...you never know with him..." he glanced at her nearby face with a sly smile. He didn't address Beatrix's 'not so good terms with anyone', because it would only serve to bring her down...and he didn't want to do that. She was already well aware of her ill favored status within the DiVA's. Then again, Bill more than favored her, and so he would like to think that tipped the scale a little more to the positive side of things.

He leaned the side of his head against hers, "When we were younger..Budd and I...Budd being significantly younger," he smirked, "...we used to pull some nasty pranks on each other. As we got older..these pranks became more twisted. I remember one...I started doing this to Budd when he was pretty young...and eventually he caught on, we'd find the vilest thing we could get our hands on...a snake, scorpion, huge beetle...something nasty and preferably poisonous...and put it somewhere unexpected. The usual places got old, ya know..under the covers, under the pillow, in shoes...so we had to get creative. The best I ever got Budd," he chuckled, "..I was visiting...Budd must have been...sixteen or so...and I knew he always kept a stack of dirty magazines on the top of the toilet. So, I hid a Sunburst Tarantula under the magazines. Those things will just sit there, almost hibernating...until you disturb them. So, I nestled the little guy under the magazines.....and no less than an hour later," he laughed, "Budd got it good....right on the hand. Goddamn, he was pissed off at me...took him awhile to get over that one." He fell silent for a moment, thinking, and then continued on, "Another one, we dubbed 'Find Our Fathers'," he paused, raising his eyebrow at Beatrix, "You are aware Budd and I are in fact half brothers?" There was a common misconception that Bill and Budd were full brothers, but the coincidence of that was highly unlikely..seeing that their mother, a woman of...not so high morals, would fuck the same bastard again after twenty years. It was fathomable, but highly unlikely and thus the two brothers had come to the inevitable conclusion that they in fact had two different fathers. It was no good trying to get that information from their mother...who'd had Bill at the tender age of fifteen. Bill suddenly remembered Beatrix telling him about her trying to find her father. "This in mind," Bill continued, "...and knowing full well we'd never actually find our fathers, nor did we really want to....we'd go out, usually a little drunk...Budd usually very drunk, and scour every bar and sleazy joint in the vicinity looking for old bastards that we thought were good suspects for our paternity. Then, we'd follow them around for a bit....and then go beat the shit out of them in some back parking lot. The contest was to see who could be the craftiest in their attack." He paused in thought, "It was pretty fucked up...we only did it a few times. But..we were both far less.....reasonable than we are now." A debatable comment. "It was really just a stupid excuse to be violent. And I don't think Budd would go for that now." Another long pause, "Then..of course there was always shooting stuff....I used to be able to talk Budd into standing there with bottles perched on his hat...which I would then proceed to shot off..and quite accurately I must say," he chuckled, "He got sick of that one real fast...got tired of having to replace his hats....," he smirked,"...seeing as how I wasn't always on target."

He suddenly grew quite serious, glancing at Beatrix once again, "It doesn't always seem like it Kiddo but Budd and I have had some good times together." He fell silent, another one of his not so enlightening nor poetic stories finished, but it served it's purpose.

"I'd be concerned if you and Budd never had any good times together," she commented after the silence had lingered for long enough. Beatrix had her theories that Bill and Budd were half brothers but by now and considering how well she knew each of them it was plain common sense. There was too much of an age gap for Bill's mother to even remember where she first fucked and certainly not who it was with. Such were the reasons Bill and Budd could be drastically the same and drastically different.

She liked Budd in that brotherly-sister way but nothing beyond that. She was thankful she still had those terms with him but sometimes she wondered if it was just for Bill's sake. Part of it had to be.

But, going back to Bill's retelling of the past stirred up memories for Beatrix. She never had a sibling; hell her mother had trouble raising one kid so another was out of the question. She wanted to contradict Bill on the fact he went looking for his father when some time back he contradicted her on the same subject but she didn't. Instead she brought up something entirely different.

"I never had a sibling or a friend to shoot things with," she mused quietly remaining in her current position. "I was self taught." Of course Bill knew this. Basically everything she knew when she met him she had received from no one but herself or that was supposedly the case. "There was this one guy," Beatrix started again in a softer, lighter tone. "My mother had been dating him for a month, that was a record in her book," a small smirk twisted her lips but it was short lived. "This guy, Phil I think his name was…he was a…American-Japanese-wanna-be. Did the whole kimono, tried to grow a beard, I think he was trying to go for Pai-Mei's look." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "He owned a katana and he caught me looking at it one night…Well, he saw my obvious fascination with the weapon and posed to teach me a few tricks." She didn't mention before he showed her those tricks some 'child abuse' was involved for touching the sword to begin with. "Phil hung around for another two months before my mother got sick of him. He forgot his sword." That smirk came back as she nestled her head closer to the side of Bill's. She wasn't sure why she told him that. Perhaps to be fair in the whole, retelling of past life events or it could have been to the fact that she had told Bill was strictly self-taught when that was a lie. Perhaps to show him that she wasn't remarkable and had a little help along the way.

Bill listened to Beatrix's story in attentive silence, glad that she felt the need to supply her own "memory" to the mix. This guy, "Phil" sounded a little on the creepy side, but Bill was familiar with the whole, white man pretending to be Asian thing, since he'd been accused of that one more than enough himself.

But, what she said made sense...and it explained some things. "I always wondered where you learned those tricks," he said softly when she'd finished. "You were a little sloppy, but I knew you must have learned something from somewhere...before I came along." Indeed, Beatrix had already a good basis for sword fighting that went beyond imitating old Zatuichi movies in the living room when he'd stumbled upon her. He'd never really questioned it, since it had proved so useful in her training, but there was always that lingering question of her actually self teaching herself or not. Strange, how this small push early in her life had allowed her to have just that much of an advantage over her peers. Of course, in Bill's mind, it was more than that...he thought her simply more talented and intelligent than the rest. Despite her confession, he was still biased in her favor.

He chuckled, head still leaning against hers affectionately, "I can just see it....this gangly little blonde girl," he meant gangly in the most enduring of ways, "..in a shitty Texas trailer, hacking at things with some creep's abounded katana." There was a part of him that did feel pity for Beatrix when it came to her childhood. While his childhood was extremely far from normal, he'd didn't consider it to be bad....tough maybe, but not bad. But, on the other hand, if Beatrix' hadn't of had to go through all the shit that she did when she was younger..she'd wouldn't be the same person she is now..and that would have been a mighty shame for him...and herself of course. There was a good part of Bill who liked to think he'd "saved her" from whatever life she would have led had, he not intervened. He took pride in this thought, but he was also curious about the whole thing...looking back on it, and now he was in a personal position where he could pose those questions.

"Theoretically, if you could go back to that moment," he began, "..that moment when I first met you, and we had..our little chat...you know exactly what moment and what little chat I'm talking about, would you have turned me down?" He turned his head to look at her better, "Let's say...knowing all you know now..."

That isn't a fair question, was Beatrix's immediate thought to the theoretical question Bill pressed her with. She furrowed her brows and blue eyes cast away from him as a wave of distress and thought ran over her façade. Of course she remembered that moment they met and Bill posed her with the question that changed her life. It was a hard memory to keep locked away.

At first she thought to voice her thoughts on the question out loud but her thoughts could wonder and the last thing she wanted was to say the wrong thing. So, she thought in her head on how to answer.

When she first came to the decision to run away from her mother and her life the last thing she expected was to run into Bill and the next minute be trained to kill another human. That night, the night she met Bill she was younger and much bubblier and…young. When she was young she agreed to any challenges; whether it was a fist fight, which kid could make some other kid spew out blood the fastest, or throwing knifes at random targets, she was for it. Bill hinted to joining the DiVAS as a challenge and she took the challenge. Those years ago she didn't take into consideration the consequences for her actions nor did she realize the weight of her choice. Now, older she put thought into her choices as the choices she made usually pertained to life or death.

Back on subject, her mind was wondering. When it came down to the nitty-gritty she truly loved her job. She was a killer and it was her natural talent, what she was born to do. But she was also a natural woman with womanly needs. Deep down she wanted what any woman did; a house, a loving husband, and a child. She wanted a normal life.

Lids blinked hard over bright blue hues as they settled back on the man before her. Bill, sitting there and staring at her with a darkened love that no other man would supply her with. This was what she knew and grew to accept, this was her life and she was torn. Her chin canted down and she moistened her lips before speaking slowly and clearly, "No, I wouldn't have turned you down."

Bill had watched Beatrix go through the thoughts and emotions that his question brought out in her. She was easy for him to read now...at least, most of the time. Perhaps she thought him too unfair or prodding, but...nonetheless, he appreciated her willingness to take the time to give him a straight answer...fully self believed or not. He knew she had her moments of doubt, about him, about her choice to pursue the life of an assassin, but he also knew she had made the right choices, and that she was aware of this.

Beatrix had been a slightly different case than the others. It wasn't that she'd been harder to persuade to join the DiVA's, but she worked on a different level than the others. She was no Elle, he had had to be more than simply deviously charming to her to get her to work for him.

Bill knew that he and Beatrix had butted heads a number of times over her limits as a killer, and he'd said some rather cruel things to her along those lines, but..despite all her "weaknesses", she still remained the best he'd ever had...in more ways than one. There were things about her that irritated him, but they were also the things that made her who she was....he even, in some weird way, loved those things about her. He wasn't sure he'd change her just so she could rise to his "level", so to speak. Then again....well, it was a loaded issue.

He knew there were things that the life of a killer denied her...things that she desperately wanted. Things that he neither wanted nor missed. He was no husband, no father. He could, and would be many things for her....but he couldn't be those things. Yet, Bill liked to believe that she saw the sham of her striving for a life that she was too good for...that she would be wasting her natural born talents in. She was better than some shitty two bedroom one bath in the suburbs, she was better than some ho hum blue collar husband....she was better than the PTA and the ballet lessons, she was better than........normal. She was exceptional...and she deserved to lead the life of the elite and deadly. Bill simply couldn't see it any other way. He knew he was a bastard...but he was an exceptional bastard. He hoped that he could be to her like nobody ever had been, or ever would or could...again, she deserved no less.

Realizing he too was letting his mind wander, he came back to the moment, "That was hard for you to answer," he replied in a soft voice, dark eyes burning into hers. "But...thank you......" He wasn't exactly sure why hearing those words from her meant so much to him. It wasn't as if he lacked self assurance in what he'd done or felt some desperate need to have a second opinion on such matters, if anything Bill was a man who made choices about himself and others with frightening decisiveness. He rarely admitted a wrong, or regretted a deed. But, nevertheless....he was contented to know that Beatrix still held faith in her decision those five years ago.

He leaned forward a little and gave her a soft, rare genuinely sentimental kiss, "I must say...I agree with you," he said, pulling away, with the hint of a smirk, "and I also must also congratulate myself on my impeccable recruiting choices..." Alright, so every now and then he got a dud, but overall...he'd done pretty damn good.

This got a well natured laugh from Beatrix, which she used to the benefit of dragging herself out of that self-pitying recollection. The factor that Bill could be selfish was displayed accurately in his choice of words. Not only was Bill a bastard but he could be a selfish one. But, she didn't hold that against him because unlike most selfish people the key factor was self. When Bill was selfish some how in that bizarre twisted way it benefited not only himself but those around him. Usually Beatrix found she was benefited in more good then bad ways.

She was growing tired of craning her head downwards so she nonchalantly slipped off the bed and came to settle on the floor beside him. Her back was up against the bed and legs were bent to her chest. "Aye, I'll agree with you on that one," she said gently "You do you have quite an assortment of killers…You have Budd, whom although moronic is sly, devious, and cunning. Vernita, whom if you give her an edged weapon the most skilled will get cut. O-Ren is a skillful warrior and marksmen...Elle, she's fucking crazy…And then you have me." All of this said with a discrete smirk curving across her lips. "This twisted array of assassins is all because of your impeccable recruiting skills."

Bill displayed a somewhat smug smile. "I have my own methods of pick and choose...although, it's usually gut instinct." He found that generally those he choose in this method turned out to be his most successful projects. Others, such as Jeff...who were more slow burning tentative projects, often met not so successful fates. But, unfortunately, that "assassin at first sight" situation rarely happened and Bill was often forced to recruit in the slower tentative manner. That being said, none of those types remained in the DiVA's in the current lineup.

Bill looked at Beatrix, who was now sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, with a pensive expression. "Vernita's one of the best ladies I've ever seen with an edged weapon," of course...he didn't quantify that shit, but it was worth noting. "...Elle's a snake..." he said this with a fond smile, "...O-Ren.....," he paused, "...she has limitless drive, her and I go back sometime...needless to say, I'd had my eye on her for quite awhile." A somewhat vague pause, "And Budd....well, I've been training him longer than the anyone else. He certainly has his negative qualities, but he's one hell of a fighter....and, he's reliable." Bill fell silent for a moment. He could go on into much more depth about those who worked for him in a much more eloquent manner, but he preferred to leave some mystery to his position on those who worked for him. He'd never fully explain himself when it came to his recruiting decisions, it was part of the mystique of Bill. Somehow he'd gained this "sixth sense" when it came to choosing killers, perhaps it was just a lifetime of experience...perhaps it was more than that. Whatever it was, it allowed him to take one look at Elle, who at the moment was about to kill him, and know that she was working for the wrong side....know that she was supposed to be working for him. It allowed him to witness the angry violent act of a skinny blonde young woman named Beatrix Kiddo and know that she would be Black Mamba.

Then again, this "sixth sense" only went so far, it didn't shed any light onto what Beatrix would eventually become to him. There was no mystique there, it was called being human. He chuckled, "Well...either way, I'm not going to argue with you on the twisted array comment." He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Good because if you did I'd get annoyed," she replied as her head settled against his shoulder. Beatrix fell silent after that and became lost in her own thoughts. Blue eyes shifted to the ceramic skull that was a reminder of the enjoyment she had been experiencing over the past few days and then her eyes moved to Bill. Bill reminded her of too many things and she moved her eyes downcast.

The topic they had just discussed had its own depth and the prospect of that depth was what perhaps put the tall blonde in her suddenly passive mood. She was also tired.

"I'm not playing tour guide tomorrow," she stated suddenly in a reassuring but light tone. A single hand came up and idly began to fiddle with the button to his shirt. "Is there anything you felt inclined to do before we depart?"

"Hrm," Bill let his head fall back against the side of the bed, "Well...our return flight isn't for three more days....well two really, since the flight leaves in the morning." He paused thinking, "We should make the best of the time we have left..." He understood Beatrix not wanting to play tour guide anymore.

"Let's just play it by ear," he decided, ".....the Bastille still sounds interesting and you mentioned something about one of hokey little boat rides...although," he smirked down at her, "..that might take some dragging to get me to do. We must get more coffee..." Bill was a moderate coffee drinker, but he had to admit the coffee in Paris was good enough to make him a temporary addict. "We could just walk around, explore...there's still the whole other side of the city we haven't seen." Obviously Bill really just wanted to steal more time away with Beatrix, far from the insanity of "home" and was really indifferent to what those things really were. "We might be able to find something else creepy..." he chuckled, "..although, I highly doubt anything is going to top those catacombs." He glanced up at the staring ceramic skull.

He looked back down at her, "Unless you're in a rush to get back home?"

Beatrix fiercely shook her pretty blonde head. "No…hell…no. I'd stay here another week but I know how that would affect business," she gave him a sly smile and picked her head off his shoulder.

Her jaw then stretched into a yawn which she covered with an open palm. She shook away the sudden spring of exhaustion settling on her body. "I think tomorrow I'm going to accept the challenge of dragging you on a hokey little boat ride." Her slender brows narrowed. "And I'll make sure its extra hokey because you love it so much." Her sarcastic smiled died down and she shifted her position. She splayed out on the floor and settled her head on Bill's lap without much of an invite. Not that he gave a damn. Blue eyes stared up at him. "Feel free to enlighten me with another story before 'sleepy time'."

Bill had this daunting feeling that she was going to suggest getting him on one of those damn boats, but...he had gotten her to dance with him, so it was something of a fair trade off. He'd just have to deal with it. He smiled gently down at her, eyes crinkling with warm humor. He couldn't remember when she started using the "sleepy time" phrase, but it was rather cute...in that..'something you'd tell your child' sort of way.

"Well...let's see...," he said softly, naturally, be began to fiddle with strands of her hair that had fallen over his crossed legs. Again, he was touched that she actually liked and wanted to hear his stories. Bill had an almost endless library of stories to draw upon; stories about himself, stories he'd heard throughout his life about others, bullshit stories,

ancient stories..which were the ones he preferred at the moment. "In ancient China," he began, in such typical Bill fashion, it was almost funny. "...there are many stories of the goddess Nuwa. She is the goddess who separated the heaven from the earth, thus creating the Divine Land...aka China. According to the legends she is also the original ancestor of the Chinese nation. She was the younger sister of the Emperor Fuxi..and thus was herself an empress," he glanced down at Beatrix with a raised eyebrow, "She was an empowered woman...right up your alley Kiddo," he smiled, "Anyways," he fell back into story mode, "...according to the records Nuwa had the body of a snake, but the head of a human....and she had the virtue of a divine mean a number of things really," he chuckled, "Either way..Nuwa loved peace and she loved to make things. She molded figures from the yellow earth and gave them life and the ability to bear children....thus...this was how humanity was created. At some point, demons were fighting in the netherworld and in the process broke the pillars that held the heavens up...putting the human world in deadly peril. Seeing this, Nuwa worked endlessly to save humankind by melting down the five-colored stones to mend the breach in the heavens. Nuwa succeeded, but her efforts had exhausted her so much, that she laid down on the earth and died...and was transformed into a vast mountain range. By doing so, she nurtured the growth of the Chinese nation by providing a rich and fertile land." He paused, still stroking Beatrix's tussled hair, "Needless to say....she was one hell of a lady. It is also said," he began anew, "that there were no men when the sky and the earth were separated and it was Nuwa who made men by molding the yellow clay. But again, this work was so taxing that her strength could not hold up and she compensated for this by dipping a rope into the yellow mud and lifting it. The mud that dripped from the rope became men. These two different methods of creating men resulted in two different types of men. Those men who had been made by being molded from the clay were rich and noble, but those men who had been made by lifting the rope were poor and low," he came to a dramatic pause, "...and it was so....as they say."

He had been watching Beatrix the entire time with that sternly warm look of his, watching her slowly drift off. It was a beautiful sight. He sat there in silence for a few moments longer, watching her, and then he slowly shifted position.

"Come on Kiddo....'sleepy time' for you....for both of us...," he mumbled as he gently lifted her up, draping her arms over his shoulder. He stood up and taking her with him, hefted her onto the bed. He rather tenderly took his time to get her under the covers. Leaving her there momentarily, he took a few minutes to get ready for bed and when he returned she looked completely out. Crawling in beside her, he nestled his forehead against her shoulder. The last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep, was feeling extremely content, and as he and Beatrix liked to put it..."really fucking happy."


	21. Paris: Gondola Riding

"Eighty Euros, please." Beatrix dug in her pocket for the proper exchange and handed it over to the gentleman at the rental desk. The tall blonde was clad in a pair of gray faded jeans and a black round neck long sleeve shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony tail as she learned from the other day the wind would just fuck it up if it was down and she had on a sporty pair of black shaded sunglasses.

She turned to Bill and handed him his ticket which she paid for. This time there was no 'senior' discount. She stuffed the ticket in her jean pocket as their boat ride didn't head out for another ten minutes.

A sly smile was evident across her supposedly angelic features. "You keep on drinking all that fucking coffee your going to have use the bathroom and," she turned her concealed blue eyes to him. "…that'd be a lame excuse not to go on the ride. So," she nonchalantly, but with a touch of hostility snatched the cup from Bill's hand and tossed it in the residing waste bin. "Stop trying to find a way out of this." She turned back to him. "You're going on this ride whether you like or not and I will more than happily drag you if I have to." She wasn't entirely sure if Bill was making it such a big deal because he wanted to fuck with her and if that was the case he wasn't going to get off easy.

Bill shot Beatrix a look that was remonstrant of a child having its toy taken away, or in this case a fifty year old or so child, as his coffee was so viciously and carelessly tossed away. He hadn't been trying for that particular tactic, but...now that she'd brought it up, he was tempted to try and sneak off to get another coffee.

He leaned up against a nearby wall as they waited, a devious smirk on his face...which meant that Bill was up to no good....which...took up a majority of his life.

"I'll find a way," he hissed to her with an amused gleam in his eye. He was fucking with her, absolutely...and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. He had the utmost confidence that she was indeed going to drag him on the damn boat, but he was going to give her hell until she did.

"I'm in fact prone to violent seasickness...." he began, "...it's quite vile. I don't think you want to see what will happen," he gave her a dramatic look, "I hope you don't like that shirt....because, it's going to get ruined. What did we eat for breakfast? Hrm, well...you'll be reminded of exactly what it was very shortly." He shook his head, keeping up the act, "It's embarrassing for me, and I don't want to do that in front of you...I don't think I could stand the shame involved. My ego is as weak as my stomach."

A tight cross between a smile and a smirk dominated her façade. She gave a brief shake of her blonde head in disbelief. "Bullshit," she remarked turning hotly to face him. "First," she jabbed a single white digit at his chest. "You don't have a weak stomach because if you had to eat half of what I had to while training with that bastard Pai Mei you would have withered up and died a long time ago." Her blue eyes were hard but it was difficult to see beneath the shades. She jabbed him again to extend her second point. "And your ego is far from weak. Considering the fact that if your ego wasn't as big as it is you certainly wouldn't be a murdering bastard."

Now that Beatrix had contradicted him on his pitifully lame excuse. she settled back against the wall beside him. Her façade was calmer but she wasn't any less irritated with him. Her head tilted a fraction in his direction. "You can stop trying to be a smart ass. It's not going to get you out of this."

"Alright," he smirked. Of course she was right, on both accounts. Bill had eaten and continued to eat some damn weird stuff...no tiny boat was going to do anything to him. And his ego was about as big as Texas...when it included Mexico. "You've called me on it," he drawled sarcastically, ".....Quickdraw Kiddo." He continued to push buttons.

He turned to her, "Like hell I'm going to stop." Fuck, the game was on and he was just getting started. He settled back against the wall, putting on his own sunglasses so he could remain equally as unreadable as Beatrix. "What if I were to do something rash? Like, hrm..." he rubbed his chin dramatically, "...oh I don't know....throw you out of the boat. That would be pretty damn hilarious." Like he'd ever actually do that, Beatrix would be royally pissed, and he wasn't going for anything beyond irritated at this point. "Or.....I could try to perversely make out with you as horrified tourists watched us float by." Actually, that wasn't all that bad of a concept and he inched closer to her to emphasize this new teasing point. "Or...." he bent close to her ear, steadying himself for a swift slap, "...I could decide to suddenly serenade you. Have you ever heard me sing? I'm actually quite good. I'm thinking either...Steve Miller's the Joker, or perhaps.... Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love..." Far, far from Parisian romantic numbers, again....so Bill. "This would of course, include full air guitar playing by youre's truly. You would be the toast of the town and an object of jealousy by all women who saw you." He was laying it on thick and he knew it. "So," he came to the dramatic conclusion of his myriad of threats, "...you do realize you are taking all of these chances into account by taking me on this little boat ride. Are you willing to take that risk?"

Unlike Bill's bullshit seasickness threat from before, he was more than capable of being rash enough to do any of these things and she knew it. He lifted his eyebrows over his sunglasses, prompting her with well practiced smartass zeal.

Beatrix pursed her lips and steadily avoided staring at him by watching the passer-byers from across the way. Bill had given her an inadequate question and he knew that. They were both aware she was a risk taker and like all hard assed risk takers she couldn't willingly turn down a risk. She could accept the risk just as easily as Bill could break out in song. Knowing he could dance and dancing with him was one thing but knowing he could sing and hearing him sing was unbearable. Beatrix was concerned she'd become forever mentally wounded if she witnessed Bill singing and singing a serenade no less. She raked through her mind for an effective and efficient counter-threat.

The tall blonde leaned in close to him and kept her voice just above a whisper. "You know I can't turn down a risk, you fucker. Oh and speaking of fuck," her voice gained a chillingly sadistic overcoat. "You aren't getting any the remainder of this trip if you attempt a note of any serenade." She knew that would push a few buttons on him because he was like all men, fact aside that he was the man.

Bill frowned, quite deeply. Goddamnit. "That's so typically female of you Kiddo," he hissed back. That threat was one of the oldest in the woman's petty book of tricks. It came right before guilt trips but after 'I have a headache'. It was petty, low, unoriginal, annoying, unfair, biased and.........it worked just about every time.

"Fine, no serenading," Bill caved in with a grumble, crossing his arms in bitter defeat. Damn her. She'd put a swift and effective end to his little game. He was tempted to keep goading her, but….like most men...he found the risk of such consequences not worth the small amount of amusement that could have been gained. Sex far outweighed a good laugh or two, sex with Beatrix even more so. He remembered, quite sometime ago, calling her a dicktease. He was tempted to throw that out at her, but decided he was done....for now. Her tactic had worked quite well and Bill was resigned to go along with all of this. Bill didn't just "go along" with anybody, save for Beatrix. She was the exception to the rule.....she was the exception to many rules actually. He wasn't really all that horrified by the whole boat trip idea, but he'd made an attempt to put up a good fight, for amusements sake....well, she'd put an end to that one.

"Wake me when the boat shows up," he said crankily, leaning the back of his head against the wall.

If Bill was attempting to catch a few winks of sleep he wasn't going to get much. The boat arrived within five minutes of Beatrix putting a bitter close on Bill's pitiful attempts of getting out of it. She was aware she had been unoriginal but she was so original she couldn't be so all of the time. Blue eyes were watching random people pass by during those five minutes of quiet.

The gentleman at the docking port soon waved her over as a skinny and small boat came down the canal. Beatrix put on a satisfied smile and rustled Bill in a non-gingerly manner. "Wake up, Bill. The boat just docked."

Bill hadn't really been attempting to get any sleep...he was actually not all that tired, they'd gotten a full night's sleep and...leaning against a wall wasn't exactly his idea of comfortable, but it was a good excuse to be left alone for the few remaining minutes and spared the further spite of Beatrix. He sighed, pushing off of the wall, "Very well..." he grumbled, allowing Beatrix to continue to prod him forward in her non-gingerly manner. They made their way to the edge of the dock. The boat driver stood near the bow of the skinny vessel, looking stoic and reserved. Their job's entailed that they were not supposed to talk much or be too obtrusive...but simply row the boat and let the occupants enjoy the ride..in whatever way they wished.

Bill climbed in first, and with an unmistakable amount of sarcasm, he held his hand out to Beatrix in an overly chivalrous manner and helped her get in, a smirk just barely concealed on his face. Like hell she needed help, but he had to rub it in.

Once they'd settled in, the gondola "driver", began their slow movement away from the dock and down the canal. Bill turned to glance at the quiet man rowing, "What, we're not up to forty knots yet?" The man didn't say anything and Bill received only a cool glare from Beatrix. With a shrug, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and set out to examine the slowly moving canal scenery.

Beatrix got comfortable and planned to enjoy the boat ride. She wasn't going to allow Bill's shitty assed attitude ruin her good time. To enforce this she settled a cold gaze on him and held up a threatening forefinger. "Just try to pretend to have fun. I pretended to have fun when you dragged me out on that dance floor." A lie, she had a hell of a lot more fun than she had expected to have. "So, you can at least pretend to enjoy yourself."

A silent scowl as she turned away to watch the passing water. It was a murky green and obviously wasn't all that clean which was a clear reason no one swam in the canals. As the gondola swiftly passed through, the water rustled and small waves splashed against the siding of the wooden boat. Beatrix blinked hard and turned her head away to stare at something other than the moving waves.

Bill scowled, her little comment about her "pretending she'd had fun dancing" irked the hell out of him, but he could only hope she was joking and he could clearly see the point she was trying to make. He wasn't trying to have a "bad time" per se, he was just trying to mess with her.....maybe he'd best stop that game.

He gave her shoulders a little squeeze, "I'll do my best," he said softly. He leaned his head against the back of cushy seat. The scenery was nice....the canals gave one a good view of Paris. At times it wasn't always clean, nor picturesque, but at other times it was quite beautiful. Often tourists walking along the sides of the canal would wave or whistle. Bill thought that was pretty amusing, and usually returned the waves with a wide smirk.

Bill was something of speed demon when it came to vehicles, and going too slow was a little irritating to him, but he also liked the calm meditative aspect of it and he tried to get into it that way.

Beatrix was equally quiet beside him, and he eventually glanced over at her. She looked happy, a little paler than normal, but it was most likely an effect of the noonday sun. "This is very nice," he said, devoid of any sarcasm.

Those blue eyes shifted to him. They weren't as much of a cold temperature as before but they did appear more void then usual. She shifted so her body was slouched back and arms came up to cross tightly over her stomach region. Why did the boat have to sway so fucking much? Okay, maybe she shouldn't have eaten that extra muffin at breakfast but this was ridiculous. It would be ridiculously ironic as well and she wasn't going to give Bill any irony.

She offered him a placid smile and turned away. She gulped down a lump in her throat and said slowly trying to keep some smart ass appeal to her degrading voice level, "Yes, this is nice but I'm not sure if I can believe a word you say."

Bill wondered briefly if the gondola driver had ever had couples fight on one of these damn things, because...after that last comment, Bill was feeling the urge to do just that. Beatrix had been snippy all day and he'd just about had it. His amused humorous mood was slowly evaporating. Here he was trying to "have a good time" just as she'd instructed him to do, he genuinely was.....he'd even told her so.....and he still couldn't win. He removed his arm from around her shoulders. She was giving off distinct 'don't touch me right now' vibes at the moment and he didn't want to push it.

Women....gah..

He pursed his lips, fighting down a wave of anger, "That's fine.....I am something of a manipulating liar anyways, so yes….perhaps I'm just bullshitting you." He didn't really want to be an asshole right now, but she'd forced him into it. "So, I'll leave it up to you to decide." He resigned to fall silent instead of continuing to throw insults....it was unnecessary and he knew it.

He instead, turned to look over the edge of the canal as they continued on.

Beatrix stared at him a brief moment with a 'what the fuck' expression plastered on her face. Was it just her or had Bill completely misread that? She had made a joke that was only supposed to mock him and continue what the smart assed game he had been playing. She hadn't meant for him to get all snippy about it and then completely close her off.

Men, ugh.

She casually turned away from and went back to her slouched position and staring off into the distance.

"Madam, feeling alright?" Said the gondola driver after ten minutes had passed. The French man had only turned around to check that his customers were still alive as there had been unsettling silence for such an extended period of time. When the gondola driver asked Beatrix if she was alright, it was only due to the fact that the man was used to the classic signs of seasickness. He had had numerous couples get sick on his boat and it wasn't because of his steering.

Beatrix didn't reply and remained staring off to the side with a void expression on her increasingly pale face.

Talk about unbearable silence....luckily, Bill was pretty adept had handling such silences. What he wasn't so adapt at was dealing with this whole "couples" thing. He realized he might have....overreacted....a little to her comment, but..fuck, she wasn't exactly being Miss Congeniality today. If he'd been in a better mood to begin with, he might have better reacted and realized that she'd only been messing around with him. Again, Bill loved to dish it out, but wasn't always warmly receptive when it came back to him if caught in the wrong mood.

Still, he remained safely neutral, leaning back against the cushions and quietly watching the scenery continuing to scroll by. He gave the gondola driver a fleeting glare. Why the fuck did the man even.....?.

Bill, suddenly turned to look at Beatrix, his question clearly answered.

She was as white as a sheet, and her posture indicated she was not all that comfortable. Her gaze seemed distracted and glossed over. His former bad attitude began taking a turn for the better. He laid a hand on her shoulder, "Jesus......I've never said this before....but....Kiddo, you look like shit," he couldn't help but chuckle at that, hand squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

Beatrix came out of her reviver and wove a dismissive hand in his direction. It was swaying as if she was drunk and wasn't exactly a forceful maneuver of brushing it off. "No…you've told me that before…" she began in a low unsteady tone of voice as she tried to remain put together but it was hard when your stomach was swaying as much as the fucking boat.

"Remember that time…there was that guy….and he…and I…and…" But she didn't much finish her thought when a wave of nausea swept over her and she sprang for the edge of the boat. The tall blonde leaned over and threw up. It didn't last long, came and went quickly, and when finished she remained hunched over the edge, hands clenched to the wooden siding, her knuckles remaining deftly white. There was nothing like puking one's brains out to make a woman look pitiful. Talk about ironic.

Bill just sat there staring is disbelief as Beatrix Kiddo, the deadliest woman in the world, his best assassin, a woman who could take on a room of trained killers and walk away untouched, a woman who'd survived hellish training and unthinkable gritty situations.....puked her guts out over the end of......a gondola.....in the middle of...Paris....

He felt bad....yes....somewhat, but at the moment, more than anything he was extremely...extremely amused. It was just too ironic...too funny....shit, it was fucking hilarious.

He leaned back, roaring with laughter, a hand over his face. He tried to speak, but he was laughing too hard. The gondola driver had turned and was giving Beatrix a somber look, "So sorry mademoiselle," he said politely, "...it happens quite often..."

This only made Bill laugh harder. He hadn't laughed this hard....in a long time. After a moment, he managed to bring it down to a continuous chuckle. "Kiddo...." he gasped between laughing fits, "....that was...." but he lost out again to another bout of laughter. He had at least brought a hand up to rub her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but he couldn't manage any comforting words at the moment. The irony was just too thick and Bill reveled in irony....preferably if it was something as funny as an assassin throwing up on a gondola.

He once again seemed to gain some control of himself, "Just give me a moment......the smart ass remark is coming..."

If Beatrix wasn't so thick skinned she would have started crying but instead this being Beatrix Kiddo, she pulled herself together and turned around to face Bill, irate. She wasn't quite as pale but a lingering green tinted her usually white skin.

"Don't waste your breath," she hissed between clenched teeth. She inched towards him and rather rudely stuffed her hand in his pants pocket, this could have been thought of as suggestive, but it was far from of it. Instead the tall blonde pulled out that infamous white handkerchief with the name 'Bill' sewn in the corner and used that to wipe the throw up remains from her mouth as well as the wet glisten along her temple that came due to the sudden cold sweat she had earlier.

She was well aware of the irony and she would have found it humorous if the situation was different. Throwing up was similar to being sick and when one was sick they were put in a vulnerable position. She hated being vulnerable even if throwing up was quick and didn't last long. Damn boat. She leaned back to let her stomach continue to settle down, her breathing came in shallow wisps, and she clenched to the handkerchief that she wasn't giving back any time soon, not that Bill would want it anymore.

"Yeah...ya know Kiddo, you can just keep that....." Bill said with a renewed frown. Although, inside, he was still laughing his ass off. He knew that Beatrix could be just as sneaky as himself, after all....she was his greatest protégé. She probably knew exactly which pockets he kept all of his necessary daily belongings in. "I have many more where that came from...." he continued, watching her with a mixed expression of lingering amusement and irritation.

He decided perhaps it was wiser to save the smart ass comments, even though he'd already thought of five real doozies by now. Well, at least he'd save them for later when she wasn't still recovering from puking her guts out....on a gondola. He once again, fought down a new bout of laughter at this continuously funny thought. It was only funnier because of his earlier lamely attempted excuse to get out of the ride.

He glanced at the gondola driver, who was now back to being deathly quiet, "Perhaps it's best we cut it short..." Bill didn't think he could handle the hilarity of Beatrix puking...twice..,on a gondola.

"Of course," the Frenchman replied with a nod. He began to steer the boat towards one of the canals many docks.

Bill turned back to Beatrix, who was lounging...still appearing to settle herself, He gave her a more understanding look, "Let's just take it slow for awhile. Do you want to head back to the hotel?"

"Yes," and she gave a tight nod to reinstate her response. Beatrix still felt uneasy but the nausea was slowly dissipating. Though she hated the after affects of throwing up which, was exhaustion.

Once the gondola docked Beatrix hastily got out and moved into the bustling streets to walk down to the bus stop. Bill followed beside her and even offered to keep her steady, as she did appear to be swaying a little. She hotly refused any help and only picked up her pace. She was just a little irate with him and she knew he wasn't through with giving her shit over the entire event.

It didn't take long for the 'couple' to arrive back at the hotel where the tall disheveled blonde went straight for the bathroom to throw cool water on her face. She came out of the bathroom looking a bit more put together. Her hair was brushed out and bangs were dampened to her temple from a large dosing of water sprayed on her face. She felt 'cleaner' to say the least and thus her attitude had simmered down.

With a placid façade, but blue eyes flickering with that dying irritation she collapsed belly first onto the bed. Bill was across the way sitting on a chair and hiding behind the local newspaper. A long arm extended and she snatched up a pillow to prop under her head. "Okay…I'm ready. You can get it all out now because I may not react as nicely to it later," she stated matter-of-factly and somewhat crossly. She was well aware Bill had a shit load to mock her about and she was giving him the opportunity to get it out with little consequences.

Alright, she'd asked for it.

With a dramatic motion, Bill thrust down his newspaper, "You threw up on a fucking gondola!" Just saying that made him start chuckling all over again. He'd been holding it in ever since they'd gotten off the boat and now, given the opportunity, he was going to take full advantage. "What was it that you said about eating all of that weird shit when training with Pai Mei?" He smirked, "What? Did he feed you just rice while you were there? Because, with that stomach I don't know how you managed the fish heads, raw eel, chicken feet and numerous assortments of raw fish eggs and Satan only know what else." It wasn't easy to forget, even it had been many years since Bill had trained with the rotten old bastard. "I would have thought he'd have given you utter hell if you'd wussed out on those." He settled back into the chair, waving a hand in her direction as he continued, "You.....," he couldn't get over it, "...threw up...on a gondola....well Kiddo, " ,more self amused chuckling, "I'm glad we didn't go on any merry go rounds or anything...extreme...you might have had to be

hospitalized." He continued on, undaunted, "We ate muffins for breakfast....Christ, well if that isn't.....stomach churning food I don't know what is. I can't believe you gave me shit for trying my lame ass seasickness excuse....and then," he once again broke out in laughter, "...you throw up...." he slapped his knee, "...on a gondola...." He shook his head, "Your one hell of a killer, but I can't say the same for your digestive disposition."

He'd had better fodder earlier, but he'd somehow lost most of it. He paused, the laughter dying down, "That's all I've got….," he said somewhat seriously, "...for the moment."

Beatrix listened to Bill's array of mocking and rude comments with a distinct glare. Fuck, somewhere along this trip to Paris she had forgotten how much of an asshole Bill was. She scowled in his general direction and stuffed her arm beneath the pillow she was propping her head on. She had no plans of contradicting him on what he had said but after he was done she couldn't avoid the temptation and gave in.

"My digestive system is fine. It must have been something I ate, or the waves…" a brief trail off but she quickly regained herself. Blue eyes flickered. "And for your information," she began in a snide tone. "Pai Mei didn't just give me fish heads, chicken feet, raw eggs, and rice to eat. He made me eating a fucking rat's…heart. Now, I took that down quite nicely so you have no…right ridiculing my stomach." Somehow this conversation had turned amusingly stupid. She pursed her lips. "Besides, with the shit I've seen and done you should feel lucky I've only thrown up from a shitty boat ride."

Bill crossed his legs, in a very manly fashion, giving her a haughty look. "I feel very lucky," he replied in a completely indecipherable tone. He wasn't even going to throw in the petty, 'oh that's nothing, let me tell you about what I've seen.....' shit. This whole conversation was already petty enough and he felt inclined to stop it.

He wanted to be kinder, but...she was just being too much of a bitch to justify him even trying. He'd tried to help her on the way to the hotel and she'd just pushed him away, he wasn't the type of man to have his help rejected twice in a row. He still remembered, many months ago, something he continually returned to in his mind, her telling him to 'stop trying' when it came to matters of 'mothering' her. He'd learned his lesson from that and he wasn't going to have her tell him that again.....it had been bad enough the first time.

And besides, it wasn't like she was fucking dying, she'd thrown up...so what. Beatrix had worse stuff happen to her on a daily basis, she'd manage without his unwanted comfort. She'd come around, she always did.

He gave her a long, dark look and then once again lifted his paper up. "I'll just be sitting here reading, let me know when you need me for something that doesn't involve you throwing up or biting my fucking head off."

Goddamit! Why'd he have to be such a fucking asshole? That sent Beatrix off the handle. Okay, she admitted to herself that her throwing up on a gondola was pretty fucking funny as it was ironic, but there was only so much humor she could digest, not literally of course.

Beatrix was known for doing spontaneously violent things and this counted as spontaneous but not as violent. She sat up from her lying down position and snatched up the pillow she had been resting on. The pillow was of medium size and like all hotel pillows it wasn't that 'mushy' soft. Her face void, blue eyes flickering intensely, she threw the pillow across the room and with a direct hit nailed Bill in the head. It wasn't much but it was a solid 'boink' effect. Childish, yes, but the bastard didn't deserve anything with 'style' and she wasn't up to it.

Bill, ever so slowly, lowered his paper, revealing that irate but amused look of his, along with a head of now messed up of Beatrix's "weapon of choice."

"A fucking pillow?" Bill said softly, glaring at her. "How exquisitely deadly."

Alright, that was it. If she wanted be childish, he'd happily play along. He felt like he'd been playing childish mental games with her all day anyways.

Eyes still fixated on her, he tossed his paper on the floor. He deliberately stood up, bent down and picked up the less than soft pillow that had landed nearby on the floor. With a coyly raised eyebrow, he examined the pillow for a brief second and then with decisive accuracy, well....at least as much as you could with a pillow, he threw it right back at her, nailing her on the side of the head.

Sneering with satisfaction he took a few advancing steps towards her as she "recovered" from the blow. "What are you gunna do next Kiddo," he quipped, "..toss the goddman mattress at me?"

"If it wasn't so fucking heavy I would," she retorted smartly after throwing the pillow to the side and coming up from her momentarily off-balanced position. Blue eyes remained a cold temperature on the man before her and then swiftly examined her array of weapon choices. There wasn't much and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to hit him with anything else. The pillow throw had helped with irritation towards him but she still had a hell of a lot of steam to get out.

Bill continued to give her a coy but heated intense look as he advanced across the room, "Hrm, well that's too bad..." he said softly, "I might have enjoyed that you know.....being so masochistic and all...."

Without warning, he swiftly snatched up one of Beatrix's folded t-shirts that had been lying on the dresser and tossed it right at her, hitting her smack in the face, "How about that? No.? Heh...well.." with that, he snatched up his black blazer that had been draped over the back of one of the chairs and subsequently tossed that at her, all the while still slowly advancing in her direction, "Or that? Oh wait...that's mine....forget it....I want that back....."

At this point he'd reached the end of the bed, and in that some slow and deliberate manner began to stroll around the edge of it, heading for her direction, "Come on Kiddo," he goaded her on, still looking rather angry, "...give me your best shot baby. What'll it be? A pair of socks? Ohh....very deadly....or..no no...how about that cute little pony tail

holder thing..that could put an eye out. Or......even better," a wicked grin spread across his face as he came up right next to her, leaning in close, "Why don't you just take your shirt off and throw it at me....you might have the momentary advantage of distraction before you maul me with your deadly garment." He was just asking to be hit, and he braced for the inevitable strike. He glanced at his jacket that she was now clutching onto angrily,

"Oh...and I still want my jacket back..."

But Bill didn't receive that supposed inevitable strike but instead received a cool glare from the irate blonde. She had on that demeanor of cool hot anger that was rare for her but when she was really pissed off she took it on, mute as well as deadly. She didn't make a move to remove her shirt. Beatrix wasn't stupid she was just angry. Even if it would enable her a great distraction she knew it would give Bill a sensation of pleasure and she wasn't allowing him that benefit.

Instead white fingers clenched ruthlessly tight on his beloved jacket. She finally spoke up in a calm and chillingly cool tone, "I like this jacket." At this she noticed Bill's frown harden. Bill was so fucking protective when it came to his clothes. She stayed put still clutching.

"I like that jacket too," Bill replied, in an equally cool but angry tone, "In fact, I like it quite a bit." He continued to hover over her, staring her down.....which wasn't working all too well at the moment. Beatrix had gone into full 'killer mode' and she was just as deadly calm and viciously irate as himself.

"You can try and take it from me…but…" Beatrix said and a slender brow rose a fraction challenging. "You'd risk tearing a seam and that'd be a goddamn shame."

Bill's frown had turned into a full on scowl, as he watched Beatrix clench viciously onto the jacket without any sign of letting go, "If so much as a seam is torn or button popped off of that jacket.....," his nostrils flared, "...well, I will not be pleased." When and why Bill had adopted this weird protective 'thing' for his clothing was unclear, but there was no doubt he was very serious about it.

She'd challenged him, and he was quickly finding himself in the mood to take up that challenge. He leaned forward, hands clasping onto the edge of the bed and hissed, "I'm going to ask you....," that threatening finger, "...one more time....to give me back that jacket," those hard brown eyes bored into her, again with little avail, "...and if you don't give it to me....then I am going to forcefully take it from you. And I stress the word....force." He paused, watching her fiercely, looking like a tiger on the verge of leaping onto its prey. "Now," he said softly, "...give me back my jacket...."

"No," the tall irate blonde stated clearly and abruptly with a bitterly cold resolve. She hugged the jacket to her chest as if a mother protecting her child. Yes, the jacket was Bill's but she wasn't going to allow him the right to 'own' the jacket anymore or not for the moment.

She added, "You didn't ask me nicely." Though asking Bill to be nice was far from a fantasy come true. Blue eyes stared up into his, flickering with that lingering challenge. "And by not asking me nicely I'm sure as hell not gonna give it back to you now." Both brows now rose. "I'd like to see you take it from me…with force. Not that I can say you'll succeed but you are free to try."

Bill's eyes flashed with anger. Like fucking hell he was going to ask her nicely. Who did she think he was...the fucking pope? Not only that....she had so flippantly called his challenge, as if she knew she could easily best him. Ohhhh....that pushed the wrong button alright. And if that wasn't enough, it was HIS goddamn jacket!

He raised his chin defiantly, a frightening smile crossing his face, "Very well baby, if that's what you want..." Before he'd even had a chance to really end that grating sentence, he'd leapt at her with a surprising amount of speed. Not surprising for Beatrix of course, but surprising nonetheless. The look on his face would have scared the shit out of most women, but Beatrix was far from 'most women'. He wasn't about to go easy on her either, he knew she could handle anything he delivered. Still, he was hoping he could best her enough to get his fucking jacket out of her clutches. He slammed into Beatrix full force, clipping her across the chest with his shoulder and with enough momentum to nearly send them both toppling off the entire other side of the rather large bed.

Wasting no time, he wrapped an arm around her torso, twisting her around in some bizarre type of backside choke hold. His other hand, made a lighting quick grab for the jacket, which was no use so far, because she still was holding onto it with an iron grip.

"Let go," he grated through clenched teeth, his face right behind her ear, "Or.....I'll put you in a fucking full nelson...." Actually, there was no way in hell he could manage that from this position, but it as the only thing he could think to say at the moment.

Although it was hard to move with Bill on top of her with the added weight which she could easily handle she had managed to get the jacket beneath her. There was no way Bill was getting to the jacket unless he wanted to tug on the sleeve that was hanging out from under the tall blonde's side or flip her over and even then it'd be a challenge. She tilted her head to the side so her face wasn't being squished into the mattress.

"Stop bluffing," she grated between an equal set of pearly whites. Bill was putting enough weight on her and she wanted him off. So she pushed her body down on the mattress to allow herself a few inches of space so their bodies weren't completely touching. This gave her the leeway to bend an elbow and ruthlessly thrust it into Bill's gut.

When he recoiled in a spark of pain she sprang away from his clutches and made a pitiful crawl to the other side of the tall bed, still holding tight to that fucking jacket.

Bill cringed as he let go of Beatrix, falling back on his knees. He should have expected that. "I'm not bluffing," he managed between painful breaths, a hand clutching at his side. It only took him a few seconds to recover, but his upper hand had been lost.

For the moment.

He gave her a wicked grin, "Just give me the jacket Kiddo." Of course she wouldn't. He began crawling in her direction with a look of malicious intentions. Just as suddenly as he'd jumped at her earlier, he kicked out a foot and hit her hard enough on the side to send her toppling off the edge of the bed. Luckily he was barefoot. Wasting no time, he leapt down on top of her, pinning her under his knees. It didn't take him long to go right for the jacket, that was much easier to get at now that she was facing him.

He didn't really want to get in a tug o'war over the garment, knowing it would rip under both of their combined strengths. He'd have to find another way.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes flashing dangerously down at her, "Give

it up...now..."

Beatrix let out a small noise or perhaps it was word of irritation as Bill leapt on top of her, and this time he had her down good. They both had their hands secularly latched onto the jacket but neither was pulling. The tall blonde warrior had no intention of taking it that far. She was still pissed off at him for numerous reasons, the gondola being the main reason.

Cold blue eyes stared daggers at the man on top of her and her façade was just as cold. Her lips formed into a tight line and with a flicker of remorse she shoved the jacket against his chest with enough force to make him falter back, but enough to allow her rights to get up.

She glared at him and said thickly, "Happy now?"

Bill clutched at his renewed possession, but his eyes were still fixated on Beatrix. "Very!" He said hotly, sounding anything but happy. He continued to glare down at her, as she reflected the same emotion back up at him.

"Your just as still fucking pissed off at me as you were before," he growled, "..the jacket was good excuse to get back at me, but look what good that did you." He hefted the garment, as if it was some trophy he'd just won. Thus far he'd made no major movement to move away from her.

Finally, he backed off slightly, but was still keeping a close intimidating proximity, "Why don't you just get it all out now Kiddo," he said haughtily, the intense glare unfaltering, "..maybe then you'll be less of a bitch the rest of the time here." He failed to mention his own anger or the fact that he was just as much as a bastard. With a snarl he tossed the jacket aside, so easily throwing away a thing he'd seemed to have needed to fight so hard for. "I think you're scared...." he said with a scathing smirk.

Beatrix's irate features washed over with pure bafflement. She parted her lips to speak but no words came out and she canted her pretty blonde head to the side, which was now tussled from being pounced upon numerous times. Her lips pursed but then parted once again this time to questionably repeat, "I'm scared?" She almost laughed at this but instead she put on a devil's smirk.

"Oh that's right," she began as if the realization just lit up in her head. "I'm scared of… you." Her brows arched. She was just mockingly playing along with Bill's taunting.

She was going to get it all out for him and she was going to lay it on sarcastically thick. "You are so much smarter, stronger, and wiser then me. And you'd…never…get seasick. I'm scared of you because you are so much better then me and that…that, scares the shit out of me." This of course was such a lie and she was taking in a lot of self gratifying for herself. Sure Bill was good but she had hopes she'd surpass him one day. But, she wasn't really scared of him, well, he could be pretty fucking scary sometimes but right now he was far from it.

Bill's eyes narrowed with pure annoyance. Her sarcastic response was more than obvious to the "trained" eye. She was mocking him, worse than that....she'd done a damn good job of it. This only irritated him further.

"You should be scared," he said venomously, but the bite had less sting....Beatrix had proved she could do that quite well. "Don't fuck around with me," he said in a low whisper." He was aware he was just digging himself in further with every comment. She wasn't scared of him in the slightest, especially right now, and that pissed him off to no end. Bill was used to being able to scare people, to intimidate people into doing or saying what he wanted. It was one of his "greatest" gifts. And here....she was just shrugging it off like a light sprinkle of rain.

This tactic had not worked, he had to find another...and quickly. He decided to go low and personal. Again, Bill went for cruelty over admitted defeat. He could have just given up and been happy with the fact he got his jacket back. But that wasn't enough for him, he had to get the last word in. "I think...." he said slowly and deliberately, "...you still can't face the fact that you find surly bastards attractive. So, you find it easier to mock me than admit the truth to yourself. That's fine...I can handle it. Ah, but there's that truth thing again. All those nice guys....not here, not now. What is it...," he leaned in closer to her, still angry, "...is it the bad thing? Hrm? Is it a 'I had no father' thing? Is it a power thing?" He wasn't talking about love...that was a whole other issue. He was talking about attraction, they were clearly separated. He leaned in even closer. "I want to know...."

Just when Beatrix thought she could smart ass her way out of this Bill had to go and hit her low. The last time she remembered him hitting her low and in that area it was during their rather violent dispute in the weapons shack. She hated it when Bill asked her such daunting questions like that. This was a question about 'him' and 'her' and 'them' and she didn't like it.

Instead of breaking down on the question, her breathing came in short puffs through her flared nostrils as blue eyes stared daggers into him. Her lips tightened as well as her irate features. "You know," she began in a deftly quiet tone, "that I don't tell the truth, so what makes you think I'm going to tell you the truth to that question?"

It was easier for Beatrix to avoid the question completely then tear herself apart over it. She knew deep down in the dark crevices of her mind what drew her to a man like Bill, but she wasn't going to tell Bill what it was when she wasn't going to admit it to herself. He'd never know a lot of things about what she thought about 'them'. Bill would have to use some concocted truth serum shit to get it out of her and even then the questions would be limited, thus not leaving them with many options. Her brows narrowed but she went mute after that questioned statement.

In Beatrix's self induced silence there sat so much of what would ultimately remain Bill and hers biggest "issue". Despite anything that was to happen between them, that....that fucking silence is what would remain the most painful wedge that sat between them. All he wanted was one truth about him out her mouth....anything...just one small thing........it would mean so much to him.....and she would continue to deny him that pleasure. Why was it so difficult for her to do? He simply couldn't' understand and it drove him fucking crazy. In the end, he'd be forced to attempt other means of getting it.....but now...all he wanted was a bare truth. He wasn't going to get it.

If Bill was angry before, he was utterly irate now.

He reared back away from her, standing up to take a few steps towards the wall. There had still been a hint of amusement in his anger before; he'd still been playing around, fucking around with her. That coyness was all gone now, leaving pure anger to take over. He swore to himself that that was the last goddamn time he was ever going to ask her for a truth about "them". He couldn't handle that defiant silence one more time.

He pointed a finger at her, shaking it without words for a few brief seconds, "Here's a few truths for you Kiddo, since you can't fucking say your own, I'll tell you a few of my own," he said in a deadly whisper. Generally when Bill got quieter the more pissed off he was. "I love you, and there's not a goddamn fucking thing you could ever do to me that will ever change that. Even if you never tell me a truth...ever," there was a rare shake of raw emotion in his voice, "..which I'm beginning to think is my ultimate fate, I will still love you. You can't tell me why you love me...if that's in fact the truth, but I'll tell you exactly why I love you." He wasn't being sweet. There was nothing romantic or charming about the way he was acting. He was still completely pissed off. "You....are the most amazing woman in every possible way I ever met in my entire fucking life...and believe me Kiddo, I've met a hell of a lot of women. I will never meet another woman like you, and to be honest I don't ever want to, there can't be another like you...not now, not ever. You've impacted me more than you'll ever fucking know or maybe even deserve to know," he let out a few angry breaths through clenched teeth. He looked like he was going to go on, but instead bent down and scooped up his jacket, "Here's another fact for you.....fuck you and your childish fear of what you know to be true."

Bill rarely showed such raw emotion and he felt uncomfortable doing it, but at least he could do it. He glared at her, taking a few more shaky breaths before turning away from her, slipping on his jacket for some reason and strolling out onto the balcony. He wasn't sure where that had come from and somewhat wished he hadn't of said it. But it was too late now and he had no regrets. It hadn't been about love, it had been about attraction...but he'd slipped up, he'd taken it too far. He had to cool down, but he was finding it difficult to do so.

Beatrix found herself having a much easier time cooling down then Bill was apparently having, perhaps due to the fact she was the one that had to ingest his words. The tall blonde sat up and long legs bent up to her chest were she held to them. Her face stood void but blue eyes clouded over in reflection. Well, she was quick to come to the conclusion that she would never have to question if Bill loved her or not. Many women spent nights crying themselves to sleep because they weren't sure if the man they loved really did love them. Beatrix didn't have to worry about that, not that she'd cry herself to sleep over it anyway.

Within that monologue Beatrix found she was complimented a great deal, but she didn't find herself flattered by it. Maybe if Bill had told her those things under a moonlit starry sky beside a wishing fountain then maybe…maybe she'd feel flattered. Instead she took it in and registered it.

Slowly and mechanically the tall blonde began to unravel and rise to her feet. She felt stoic and light headed. She honestly wasn't sure how to take that in, but what she did know deep down that no matter what Bill ever did or said to her she'd always…deep…deep down love him. She could deny it all she wanted but it wouldn't go away.

But for now he hadn't done anything to upset her, not really. Bill had expressed himself and it'd be cruel to let him stand out on that balcony alone. So, with willing steps she sauntered over to Bill and came up beside him. They stood in silence a good five minutes before Beatrix spoke up coolly, "This is called comfortable silence. When you know you found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute, and comfortably share silence."

She may have been comfortable, but Bill sure as hell wasn't. It had taken a great deal of effort to stand there next to her for those few minutes without doing anything rash. He found his hands aching from having clutched onto the balcony railing with white knuckled pressure for far too long than was healthy. He'd been silent mainly due to the fact he was too angry to speak.

What was most irritating, no....perhaps not most, but it was up there, was how fucking calm she was. He was supposed to be the calm one, he was the rational one, and here she was as even keel as he had been on his best days. That calm façade was his, it was his trait...and she was sporting it as naturally as he'd ever had. Perhaps she was surpassing him after all.

Bill had the strange sensation of talking to himself and it was not a comfortable feeling.

She seemed to have come to resolve of sorts, but he was far from through. He inhaled a few long breaths through flared nostrils. He had to work this out of himself or he felt like he was going to be just as sick as Beatrix had been earlier. Anger was often like some self induced toxin.

He suddenly turned to look at her, loving her, loathing her, wanting her, revolted with her, and ultimately finding her irresistible, all communicated in one fiery expression. He grabbed her, not all too gently, by the upper arms and mercilessly kissed her....rather roughly, uncaring if she wanted him to or not. The whole motion was so forceful; he ended up pushing her back a number of steps until her back ran into the side railing.

Well, at the very least Bill 'had shut the fuck up'.

That wasn't what she was initially aiming for. She had been hoping that her calm ramble of words would put him in a calmer state and help dissipate some of the anger. Obviously that worked in reverse. Her calm demeanor only fueled his anger. Maybe she was surpassing him, at least in the calm factor. Bill was known for being utterly cool and collected when he was irate but then again he was also known for over reacting when he was irate. It was a catch twenty-two on both sides.

Beatrix wasn't sure which side she was witnessing at that moment. Bill was irate but wasn't acting that cool about it. When had her throwing up on gondola become such a weighty issue? Well, she couldn't let her mind fuck around on those daunting questions as she had to deal with now and how she was being pressed up against a balcony railing because Bill was not so tenderly kissing her.

She could feel the cool metal of the railing pressing into her shirt and her back arched slightly at the pressure to her front. She liked kissing Bill, but honestly kissing him when he was fucking pissed off wasn't all that lavishing. So, the tall blonde put up her hands, placed them against his chest, and forcefully pushed him away. Once removed she took a step away, her once calm demeanor slightly flustered. "What the fuck was that for?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he said calmly. The first calm thing he'd said in the last ten minutes. He blinked a few times, staring at her, his hand clasping onto the railing next to him. He tilted his head to the side, "When did you become the calm one here?" There was a hint of a smirk, as if he'd started to 'surface' again.

He would have never acted like this with any other woman. Fuck, he would never have acted like this with any other person, period. It was just further evidence that Beatrix was the end all of women for Bill.....he would never get closer to another human being as he did with her. She'd seen him too weak and too angry and too unpredictable. She'd seen him how he'd never, ever be with anybody else. She could blackmail the hell out of him if she'd ever wanted to.

He slumped up against the railing across from Beatrix. He ran his hands through a head of currently unruly hair as he took a couple deep breaths, looking for something to say.

"Can we just..........start this whole day over?" he replied finally.

Beatrix raised questionable brows in his direction. "I don't know," she trailed off. Those blue eyes turned down cast a moment. Bill was calmer, but now she felt angered or perhaps more confused by the situation. She decided to take a moment to collect her thoughts and proceeded to count the tiles on the balcony floor.

This bored her quickly but it did help her come up with an appropriate reply to Bill's request. She leveled her gaze back on him and put on a placid façade. "Yes, we can start over but," she tilted her chin down to her chest. "There is no way in hell we are getting back on that boat."

Bill didn't look really any happier or calmer, but he wasn't getting angrier, so that was always a good thing. "I couldn't agree more," he mumbled with a sliver of humor. Where the fuck had all of this begun? Beatrix getting sick? Her not giving him his jacket? Her inability to tell truth's about 'them'? Or perhaps it was "D"....All of thee above.

Either way, it proved that even adults, adults that killed people for that matter, could be childish. He continued to lean on the railing, watching Beatrix under hooded eyes from across the patio. At least she was willing to 'start over.' She wasn't angry. He wasn't sure what she was, but she wasn't angry. "I'm really glad you brushed your teeth," he quipped, still frowning, but frowning for Bill was much like Budd and drinking, a common accordance in any situation.

This brought a smirk to grace Beatrix's face which could have been a laugh were either of them in better spirits. Her smirk didn't last long as it dissolved into a coy smile. "Actually," she took a small step towards him. She still remained cautious knowing he was far from completely cooled down. "I brushed my teeth twice and used mouth wash." This was more for her taste bud's benefits then Bill's.

She stopped her forward movements and extended her arms across the length of the railing. Blue eyes shifted to Bill. "Why don't we order room service and eat it on the bed while watching one of those overly priced hotel supplied movies?" This time she suggested the option as she wasn't entirely sure what Bill was up to. She suggested this because she didn't want to go out and have to spend two hours sitting at a table with him in 'uncomfortable' silence. At least a movie would supply interest in between the gaps of silence.

This was a perfect suggestion and Bill voiced his agreement with a brief, although somewhat forced smile and a nod. He was glad she'd gone ahead and suggested it, because he was in no mood to make much of a decision, nor could he handle going out and having to pretend he was in a good mood. He didn't force himself into moods unless absolutely necessary. He'd rather take his time and slowly ascend into a better mood, and her suggestion was a perfect opportunity to do just that.

"I'll order the food," he said, as they went inside, "The movie is up to you....," he paused, giving her a smirk "….but no chick flicks...." He knew Beatrix had better taste than that, but he just wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be stuck watching some over idealized, boring, yapping, woman movie.

Forty five minutes later a large array of food was sitting on various sized dishes at the end of the large bed. Bill had ordered a variety of things, typical European foods, a couple of things he'd never tried, and just in hopes that things indeed got better mood-wise a bottle of champagne, which now sat in a small ice bucket alongside the food. Likewise, he'd changed into his kung fu silk style pajamas. It made him remember the time he and Beatrix had stayed up and watched Shogun Assassin and ate stale popcorn all those months ago. And that thought alone put him in a better mood.

He wanted things to be better; tomorrow was really their last full day in Paris, and he truly did not want to spend it in the same state of mind as he had today. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to be a bastard....it was hard, but he was going to do his damndest. He'd changed enough to have things with he and Beatrix come along this far, he could continue to keep trying. As he got ready and set out the food, he kept thinking about those three months when Beatrix had been working for the CPA and how he'd tried so hard to be a different man when she returned....rather unexpectedly. In the end, he'd proven he wasn't all that different than before, but he had to keep trying. Bill would change for nobody......nobody but Beatrix. He kept having to remind himself of that.

Sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, he watched her as she stood by the television and browsed through the catalog of pay per view movies. He'd nibbled at the shrimp prong platter a little, but he was waiting until she was ready to really dig in. "I think the porn section is near the back," he teased her with a raised eyebrow.

Beatrix gave him a typical look and resumed to her task of choosing the movie. She wasn't surprised to find the porn section had a much better variety of movies then the other sections. Either way the tall blonde, now clad in an over sized t-shirt and sweat pants strolled back over to the bed and sat down. She picked some cheesy French gangster movie that was dubbed in English to make it more amusing for the watcher. She wasn't sure about the name but she guessed it was equally as cheesy.

The two killers remained silent during the first forty minutes of the film as they were both busy eating. Beatrix didn't stuff her face as she had been doing for the past few days and ate light. She took only the food she was positive she enjoyed and even those portions were small, but it was enough that she wouldn't go hungry.

Their French gangster movie was turning out to be as amusing as it was entertaining. Beatrix was now settled back against numerous piled pillows against the head board. She gave Bill a fleeting glance before turning back to the television screen. She wanted to cuddle with him. She really had enjoyed that one night they cuddled watching Shogun and she ended up drinking too much. She wanted another memory like that, drinking aside but she wasn't going to push it and let Bill come around on his own.

About halfway through the movie, Bill couldn't help himself and he got up and stacked the empty plates neatly on a table by the door so the maid could find them easily the next day. He left the champagne, but Beatrix appeared to not want any, which was probably a good choice and he was resigned to stop after a couple glasses himself.

When he returned to watch the movie, after clearing away the dishes, he smoothly nestled himself in next to Beatrix. He was finally feeling mellow enough to really enjoy her physical company. She looked so comfortable, nestled in her throne of pillows; he didn't want to fully disturb that. So, lying on his side, he leaned his head against her shoulder. Her long blonde hair was draped all over the place and he gently pulled it all over to his side and idly began combing through it with his fingers with extreme affection; Bill, forever a "fool for blondes." He kept one eye turned towards the movie, which was surprisingly rather entertaining. The only really cheesy thing about it was the English dubbing, but the actual movie was pretty damn decent. It looked fairly new, but it was done in classy gangster style, suits and all. The action was good; the plot was a little stereotypical, but still quite amusing. Basically, it entailed the typical love triangle, the main character, a good but bad guy trying to get out of the gangster life, a scary mob boss type of guy, idiot henchmen and lots of violence.

"I think this Jerome guy is trying a little too hard to be Humphrey Bogart,"

Bill murmured at one point into Beatrix's ear, "That's a respectable goal, but a man's gotta find his own style...."

Beatrix smirked idly at that, but nudged Bill with the crook of her shoulder. "Shut up and stop criticizing the characters," she said her voice hinting on sarcasm. Bill never shut up during movies especially movies pertaining to his time or close to it, or that he just knew a lot of 'background' information on. She always found his information and perspective well worth listening to, but at times it was annoying as hell.

The tall blonde settled back and resumed to watching the movie. Silence had lasted a good five minutes until Beatrix was the one to criticize the characters. "That was stupid," she noted to something that had just flickered across the screen. "He could have easily avoided getting killed if he had used that tactic correctly."

Bill only smirked at her interjections, knowing he didn't have to point out that she was doing exactly what she'd told him to stop doing only moments before. She was more than aware of it, and there was no need to start any further bickering. He had it in mind to stop that trend here and now.

Beatrix seemed in dire need of cozy physical comfort and he was more than happy to attend to that matter. By the time the surprisingly decent movie was over, he had his arm wrapped over her shoulders, head buried in the crook of her neck. Bill was a rather effectuate person with women he wasn't sleeping with, so needless to say he was rather more so with the woman that he was. As cruel as Bill could be, the pendulum swung equally as far the other way...to the extremely gentle. The scary part was, was how quick that pendulum could swing from one extreme to the other.

But right now he was as attentive and sweet as a killer could be. He was known to try to "make up" for his vile actions at times, perhaps out of a small amount of guilt, and he admitted, only to himself of course, that he did feel somewhat bad about how he'd treated Beatrix earlier; not that she didn't deserve it at times......but, he wasn't a man without the ability to bear guilt...as rare of an occurrence that it was.

It was often difficult to tell what Beatrix wanted from him, this was somewhat of a typical woman trait in Bill's mind, so he did his best to guess and appease her. He knew she liked to listen to him, so after the movie had finished he picked up the remote and switched off the television and began speaking to her in his soft, slow tone of voice. He just talked about random things, nothing too deep or meaningful, just things....stupid things couples tell each other: jokes, random antidotes, silly and stupid stories.

He also knew Beatrix liked to be held protectively. It was one of those things that nobody would really know about her, just like she knew all sorts of things about him that the rest of the world never saw nor ever would see. She was a killer, a tough woman...she was a lioness. But she also had a softer side, a side that liked what most women liked: to be held. So, as he spoke to her, her wrapped her up in his arms, his hand stroking her long hair.

These simple actions alone seemed to dispel the negative energy that had still been bouncing between the two of them. Thus, they stayed like that for quite awhile, well over an hour..at least..it was hard to tell in moments like that. Time was the enemy in moments such as that, and one never paid much attention.

Bill also knew Beatrix liked to be kissed. He realized earlier today that she didn't like to be kissed angrily, but he knew quite well she did like to be kissed gently. With this in mind, he softly kissed her eyelids, her fingertips, her forehead, her neck...and so on...as he spoke to her in that almost hypnotic tone.

Oh, Bill knew exactly what he was doing alright. One could almost picture the calm flute playing snake charmer sitting before the deadly viper as it slowly, slowly coiled down to the ground, lolled.

Bill was beyond trying to manipulate Beatrix. For starters, she was too smart for that, but more than that, he had no intentions of manipulating her further. But, that didn't mean he couldn't employ a few expertly executed methods to ease the tension between them. Even Bill was prone to his own powers of sedation. In fact, if anybody needed it right now, it was him.

Well, fanciful explanations aside, the evening turned out to be rather enjoyable and it seemed the two killers had "kissed and made up"...so to speak.


	22. Paris: Mime Slaughter

The next morning Bill woke up early, before sunrise, much like he did back home, and making sure not to disturb Beatrix, went out onto the balcony. He missed his backyard with its Asian inspired courtyard and garden. The balcony was nice, but it just wasn't the same. He sat cross legged on the cool deck tiles, still in his silk pajamas and sat quietly as the sun slowly rose. The concept of a cold blooded killer meditating may have seemed a little strange. But, if one really thought out it, a multi murderer needed to clear his mind just as much or more than a priest, or a yoga instructor, a banker, a CEO..or...whomever was meditating in today's "Eastern Philosophy is Chic" world. Bill had been meditating on basically a daily basis for over half his life, the fact that he killed people for a living wasn't going to change his habits.

After meditating for well over half an hour, he slowly opened his eyes and picked up his flute at his side, which he'd brought out with him. He began to play softly. He didn't have any real idea of what to play and ended up settling on a song he'd written a long time ago. It wasn't very good, rather repetitive really.....but he still liked it and amazingly so, could remember all of it.

The sun was well over the horizon when, over his flute playing, Bill heard the sounds of Beatrix moving about in the room. He paused for a moment to listen and then went back to playing.

Beatrix soon came out onto the balcony with a placid smile on her formidably groggy features. She was already washed up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a pale blue blouse. Long white fingers were secularly tightened around a steaming cup of coffee loaded with sweetener to wash away the remaining lingering of being tired. She slept very well, considering the fact that she fallen asleep in Bill's arms and remained that way for a good portion of the night until her slumbering body rolled away. When she awoke the following morning she was disappointed to find Bill absent from the bed and the room for that matter, but upon hearing the soft melody of the flute coming through the partially shut balcony doors, she was far from disappointed.

She leaned up against the far wall, coffee in hand, and just listened. She loved listening to Bill play and it was always remain one of her favorite things. There was always something about that flute that made her feel calm in the most not-so-calming situations. Beatrix was never sure if Bill took on to learning the flute because it screamed 'Snake Charmer' or if it was just because he was taught and continued to learn. She was sure he told her once, not the complete reason but snippets and perhaps her slowly working mind just wasn't fully awake to dig that deep.

The song soon ended and she would have clapped had her hands not been occupied. Blue eyes, half lidded, came down to stare at him affectionately. She couldn't have been more then happy to know they were back on 'good' terms. The last thing she wanted was their last full day in Paris to be shitty. "Hello," she said gently and straightened her posture against the wall. "There's a cup of coffee on the table inside for you."

Bill slowly lowered the flute, taking his time to savor those first moments of silence, as well as the feel of the instrument in his hands. He liked holding flutes nearly as much as he did guns but not nearly as much as women. That order of tactile preferences obviously said a thing or two about his persona. Finally, he lowered the flute to the tiles next to him and turned to look up at Beatrix with a soft affectionate look. "You look very beautiful," he said quietly. And she did, which...was somewhat redundant when it came to Beatrix. But, there was something extra special about the way she looked in the early sun, her hair blowing slightly in the mild wind and her eyes seeming to match perfectly with the pale blue blouse she was wearing. He offered her a small smile after that comment and then slowly stood up. It was best to move gradually out of a meditative state.

He brushed by her on his way inside, "Thank you," he replied with equal gentility and went inside to claim his coffee, which thankfully was as black as a moonless midnight. Beatrix knew him all too well. He returned to her side on the balcony, hot coffee now in hand. He squinted across the slowly brightening Paris cityscape, his own hair blowing across his face.

"Our last day here Kiddo...." he murmured, "We'd best make it memorable..." He turned to look at her with a warm smile.

Beatrix returned the smile and took another sip of her coffee. The two killers stood out on the balcony over looking the bustling beauty below that was Paris for ten minutes, drinking coffee, before heading inside. Beatrix set down her half empty coffee mug and retired back to the bed side. One long leg crossed over the other and hands were palms down on the comforter.

Blue hues watched absentmindedly as Bill traversed about the room for clothes. She wanted their last full day in Paris to be as memorable and as special as the past days had been but she wasn't sure how. Neither of them were the typical tourist type and going to tour the Notre Dame or the Musée du Louvre was a big no-no.

"Once you've finished becoming…pretty," a coy smile flashed in her man's direction as well as a raised brow.

Bill chuckled at Beatrix's "pretty comment" and flashed her a broad smile as he buttoned up his dark grey shirt. "Don't you know it baby," he smirked.

She gave him a look and suggested. "Why don't we just walk?" Last time they walked they found that street fair where she found her baguette. The second time around could be just as pleasant or surprising.

They were down on the street within five minutes, and without any argument headed off to their new favorite coffee place by the canal waterfront. It didn't matter that they'd already had one cup of coffee, Bill wanted more. He already could tell he was going to go through withdrawals from it when he got home.

As they were standing in line to get coffee, Bill sifted through a wall of tourist pamphlets and after a few minutes, returned to Beatrix's side with a frown. "It seems the Bastille, or at least...where it was, is now covered with a fancy new opera house." Apparently Bill wasn't as adept at his French history as he was at other things. He continued to frown down at the fancy opera brochure, "Well...shit.." he drawled, "so much for that," he shrugged, tossing it into a nearby trashcan just as they reached the counter to order.

Minutes later, more coffee in hand, the two killers stood out in the shining mid morning sun. Bill looked at Beatrix with a calm façade, "Let's just keep walking...see where that takes us," he took her hand and they headed in a direction they had yet to transverse thus far.

They didn't transverse far when Bill spotted a tourist booth were numerous pamphlets were stacked up. Beatrix decided to wait outside, as she had given over her tourist responsibilities to Bill. She stood outside staring through the dark shades of her sunglasses when she was bombarded by mimes. There were two of them and they looked exactly the same. Tight black stretch pants, a white and black pin stripped shirt, black shoes, red hat, and white and black face paint.

The two mimes must have thought the tall blonde was bored as she was just standing there in a city that was known for its fast pace. They began to entertain her; performing the classic 'box' and 'rope climb'. Beatrix stood there with a stoic expression as she leaned up against a pillar. She could tolerate a bunch of mimes trying to entertain her, but what she couldn't tolerate was a bunch of mimes trying to get her to join in.

They began playing with her hair, taking chunks and putting it in mismatched directions. The hair she could almost tolerate and the tightening in her features showed her increasing but controlled irritation. But what she couldn't stand was when the fucking mime took her sunglasses and put them on pretending to prance around in a very un-Beatrix manner. The tall blonde pushed off the pillar and walked up to the prancing mimes and snatched her sunglasses back. Before she could put them on the other mime snatched them away and began to point a finger at her as if disciplining her for taking the sunglasses away. They were her fucking sunglasses! She began to get fed up and took threatening steps towards the mime that had her sunglasses, when the first mime blocked her path. The mime crossed arms over his chest and wasn't going to budge. So, Beatrix pushed him out of the way.

The mime with the sunglasses began to display a pathetic 'uh oh' expression. Beatrix closed in. She could play mime too. Long white fingers folded into the shape of a gun and she nonchalantly pretended to shoot the mime. The mime stopped, stared with mouth agape, and then began a very over dramatic death before falling to the ground. With a smug grin Beatrix walked over, knelt down, and snatched up her sunglasses. She then rose to her full height and began to walk back to her pillar. The first mime was now at his counterpart's side pretending to cry.

When Bill came out to the scene with a classic 'what the fuck' expression, Beatrix casually looked over to him and clarified, "They tried to take my sunglasses."

Bill stood taking in this whole tableaux for a few seconds. The image of the "dead" mime being comforted by his miming compatriot was just too damn funny in that sort of dark humor way, that could be truly appreciated by Bill.

He sauntered over to the tall blonde, a couple of pamphlets in his hand, "Well, now you've gone and done it Kiddo....you've killed a mime." He was smiling with the utmost sarcasm.

The mime that had "survived" Beatrix's sunglasses encounter stood up with a dramatically put on angry frown and came stomping towards the two killers. His painted face emphasized the frown in a clown like fashion. He came up to Bill, falling somewhat shorter, and threw his shoulders back in a "manly fashion", puffing out his chest, clenching his fists at his sides, and sticking out his chin. Obviously he was trying to mock Bill. Then he spun and fell into a "damsel in distress" character, flailing his arm across his forehead and dramatically performing a silent scream. Then, he jumped back up and did the "Bill impression" again, bumping right up into Bill's chest with his own much skinnier one.

Bill was chuckling at this, if not a little sadistically. "That's pretty good," he said to the mime now in his face. The mime continued to posture. Then Bill's smile dropped, and thinking much along the same lines as Beatrix, mocked pulling out a gun from his side and "pointed" it right at the mime's forehead, his pointer finger pressed up against the mime's white painted skin.

The mime played it up, looking terrified and throwing his hands up into the air. With a smirk, Bill "pulled the trigger" and the mime "died" just as dramatically as his cohort had. Although, his act was a little inaccurate and Bill and Beatrix both knew well enough, when shot in the head a person generally did nothing but fall flat out dead.

Bill clapped a few times with exaggerated sarcastic enthusiasm, and then with a slightly irritated look turned his back on the two "dead" mines to look at Beatrix. It seemed the two killers couldn't help but "kill" somebody while they were off duty, so to speak.

Bill was now sifting through the pamphlets, "Well...it was a little difficult deterring the yapping asshole away from the usual tourist stuff, but I found a couple things." He started handing Beatrix a pamphlet at a time, as he read them off to her, "There's this tour of the sewers of Paris. I thought it sounded interesting until I realized that they are still the sewers that are currently being used...." he continued on, "The Paris Plage...the beach, supposed to be nice. The Boulangerie Pioline, which according to the experts is the best bakery in Paris, the Paris zoo...., and I found a couple cemeteries. There's the Montmartre Cemetery, the St. Vincent Cemetery and even...the Cemetery des Chiens....a huge pet cemetery." He paused, left with the last pamphlet, "And then there's the Deyrolle...," he raised an eyebrow and began reading from he pamphlet, "Paris has many unusual shops, but one of the most unusual has to be Deyrolle, a 170-year old establishment on Rue du Bac, not far from the Musee d'Orsay on the Left Bank. To describe it as a taxidermy shop hardly does it justice. The ground floor looks like a fairly ordinary small home and garden shop (apart from a couple of stuffed gazelles standing on their hind legs and dressed to look like humans). But walking up the stairs is like passing through a time warp. The second story (which in France is considered the first) appears to have changed little since the store moved to its current location in 1881. It's dusty, chaotic, and crammed with stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes, and poses, as well as ancient wooden cases full of insects, shells, botanical prints and a variety of curiosities. As the pictures here suggest, it's really a museum masquerading as a store." Bill then handed the pamphlet to the tall blonde, "Weird as hell..."

In the meantime, the two "dead" mimes had resurrected themselves and scampered away, looking not entirely pleased...most likely because they hadn't been tipped.

Bill watched Beatrix, as he crossed his arms over his chest, "There's quite a bit to do beyond that, but none of it seemed like...our thing..." Indeed, the tour guide had tried to dump all sorts of pamphlets on Bill, everything from museums to gay bars, perfume shops to art walks. This was the best Bill could come up with after sorting through the stack of brochures.

"Anything catch your eye?" He asked with a small smile.

Beatrix was browsing over the content on the brochure that Bill had handed her. Slender brows were narrowed and her lips were tight as she ran over the information. She looked up from the brochures to return a fond smile.

"I'd like to see the Musee d'Orsay," she said picking out the brochure from the stack. The actual place didn't catch her fancy but what did was how fucked up it sounded. A museum with big stuffed animals? It sounded pretty cool. "Afterwards we should stop by The Boulangerie Pioline." She didn't suggest any of the cemeteries even though the pet cemetery sounded interesting because they had already seen the ultimate cemetery; the catacombs. Nothing could top that in the means of things that are dead.

She handed the brochures back to Bill to handle. "It's not that far from here. If we hop the bus we should be there before the crowds start."

"Ah, you mean the Deyrolle," Bill replied, taking back the brochures, "It's near the Musee d'Orsay...that's just a droll boring art museum I'm sure." He stuffed the brochures in his back pocket, "I'd rather go for the creepy animals as well." He wasn't all that surprised that she'd chosen the Deyrolle..that's why he'd decided to read a little more about that one. The Boulangerie sounded like a good idea as well. "Alight," he nodded, easily content with the choice.

They headed for the nearest bus stop and within thirty minutes were standing in front of a bizarre looking old wooden building with a number of quite dead animals, that now eerily brought back to stuffed life, were sitting around the front of the store. Which...really wasn't a store anymore, but served more as a museum of oddities.

Holding Beatrix's hand, Bill stood there for a few moments staring at the front of the store...which Beatrix was having a similar reaction to. A pair of gazelles flanked the door, modified to stand on their hind legs and standing dressed in very human attire.

Bill's eyebrow seemed momentarily frozen in an arched position. "For some reason...I think Budd would love this..."

Beatrix smirked wide. "My thoughts exactly."

The couple stood in front of the store agog for a few more minutes before making their way inside. The inside of the store was just as weird as the outside. There were stuffed animals in every crevice of the room. It was quite amusing and Beatrix had a strange sensation to go and hug one of the over stuffed lions with bared teeth but she didn't and only informed Bill that she thought it was cool.

Indeed, the "store" did prove just as weird or weirder than the outside. It was dusty, cluttered, poorly organized...there were all sorts of animals packed into a not very large space. Just about every animal imaginable really. It was a taxidermists dream come true. There was even a second story filled with an even larger assortment of strange and exotic creatures. You name it, it was there. There was even glass cases full of insects pinned down and seemingly just as dead as the rest of the store's animal occupants.

A small amount of people were milling around, but it didn't seem like much of a tourist hot spot. An older woman, who seemed to be the only person working there, shuffled around, lovingly straightening up the animals. She didn't seem to feel the need to dust or do much other cleaning though. Bill found this rather bothersome...he hated messy places. But, it was creepy and amusing enough to let that pet peeve go.

He and Beatrix took their time wandering around both floors, making snide remarks and admiring the amount of time it must have taken to stuff some of the animals so well. They quickly realized the older woman who worked there wasn't paying much attention to the living people...as she seemed far more interested in the dead non-human types. The two killers soon took advantage of this negligence of supervision.

"How do I look?" Bill said to Beatrix with a wicked grin, a massive dead python wrapped around his shoulders.

Beatrix looked over with a raised brow and her head canted to the side. "You look charming," she replied with a grin. She took a step over to Bill and his 'snake', wishing she had remembered to bring the camera. Bill with the dead python wrapped around his shoulders was a classic Kodak moment. She stopped a few feet away from him and her head canted further to the side.

"This goes to show that the Snake Charmer can charm not just his Vipers but a dead stuffed Viper." She crossed arms over her chest idly and pointed out quietly, "If that thing comes alive and tries to kill you I'm going to laugh then…maybe I'll save you."

Bill chuckled, "I appreciate your willingness to perhaps save my life Kiddo," he replied with a smirk as he took a few more moments to posture around with the snake. Reluctantly, he put it back in its spot, which was in between a stuffed hedgehog and an equally dead and stuffed iguana.

The two killers moved onto another grouping of animals and as they mingled around, Bill couldn't help but bring up the morbid discussion of the handful of notorious serial killers who had skinned their victims and in some cases making things such as lamps, furniture and clothing out of them. Bill leaned towards Beatrix, around the large form of a stuffed baby elephant, "Now, that's sadistic," he murmured, thus ending his serial killer monologue.

After an hour or so, they seemed to have made the rounds in the eerie menagerie and found themselves at the back exit, where a small souvenir table booth was placed. An older man, perhaps the husband of the woman they'd seen earlier, was sitting behind the booth, looking as if he was dozing off. Bill stared at the horrid display of souvenirs behind the slumped form of the sleeping man. "Perhaps I should get something for Budd....," Bill grumbled, eyeing the small stuffed rodents and other such bizarre items.

"Or perhaps a stuffed squirrel for Elle?" He laughed, "No...no...forget that..."

The workings of a tentative smirk creased the tall blonde's facial features but it was short lived. She casually sauntered over to the opposite side of the desk and leaned over to examine the small array of souvenirs to choose from. Soon enough she plucked up a miniature dead-bear look a like. It was a miniature grizzly bear; of course, it wasn't a real life one, only a sculpture covered in real grizzly fur.

She inspected the sculpture with a scrutinizing eye and a single white digit traced over the silky coat. Beatrix turned to Bill with the bear in hand. "You should get this for your brother." She raised the bear sculpture to his eye level. She recalled once referring to Budd as a big teddy bear. This wasn't a teddy bear, but it was pretty close.

She then set it on the counter. Her features didn't seem as bright as before but a tad more docile. "You shouldn't buy anything for the others," she stated bluntly with a distant tone level. If she was on better terms with Vernita, she may have brought her this cheetah fur lined leather jacket she saw but she was far from good terms. Beatrix soon came to realize that this was their last day in Paris and they'd have to go home. She felt a strong surge of reluctance to do so. Home meant reality and she didn't want that, not really.

Bill gave the teddy bear a reluctant look. But, in some odd way...it did seem rather Budd-like. He nodded silently at Beatrix, agreeing with her that he should buy nothing for the others. While Bill was hardly as angry at the rest of the Viper's as Beatrix was, he certainly was not happy with their recent behavior and thus felt they did not need any rewards, even cheesy souvenirs.

After rousing the rather cranky sleepy old man behind the counter, Bill paid for the small bear, which thankfully the man put in a bag, and they left the Deyrolle and headed for the The Boulangerie Pioline, which was just a few blocks away. As they walked there, Bill wrapped an arm around Beatrix's shoulders, realizing just as she was, that their time in Paris was quickly coming to a close. Bill was a workaholic, and he was looking forward to getting back to work. But, the urge to stay here, with Beatrix was far stronger. He could have stayed here with her for eternity....well...maybe that was a bit of an overstatement. But, either way, he didn't want to have to sacrifice the time he could be spending with her for other things....and that's exactly what returning home meant.

They easily found the Boulangerie, which was quite a bit more crowded than the Deyrolle. They ended up having to stand in line for almost twenty minutes, but this time was well spent between the two of them as they talked amongst themselves. Finally, they reached the counter, and after ordering a few choice pastry items, found a small table for two in the corner of the crowded restaurant.

Bill picked moodily at the filled croissant on his plate, it wasn't that it wasn't good...it was superb actually, but the reality of leaving had dawned on him and he didn't like it. He gave Beatrix a tight smile across the table, his facial expression speaking his mind instead of spoken words.

And Beatrix had gotten much better at reading his facial expressions. She picked up the half eaten portion of one of her pastries and took a small bite. It was very good, the best pastry she had had, but she wasn't enjoying it as much. They were supposed to make this last day in Paris memorable and it had been, until they both began dawning on home.

Beatrix shifted in her chair and rubbed her pastry stained fingers on the napkin. Intense blue eyes turned to the man across the table. She didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon in sour moods. They needed something to brighten the mood. A light went off in the tall blonde's pretty blonde head. "The next assignment you send me on better be an easy one. I haven't killed anything in a week," her voice was low enough and the crowd was loud enough that no one gave a shit what they were talking about.

Deep down Beatrix wanted to go home and deep down she did want to kill something again. It was a natural drive, a drug that you could withdraw from, but going through that withdrawal would be hard but it wouldn't be impossible to do. As she had been through a withdrawal during their time in Paris, she had easily forgotten about her alternate life but at the same time she couldn't store it all away.

She raised a mocking finger at him adding, "And, the mime does not count."

Fucking mimes. Bill chuckled, his dour expression momentarily fading away. "I promise, I'll send you on an easy assignment...something that involves a large number of hapless morons that you can easily dispose of in whatever bloody methods you feel inclined to."

If anybody could understand how Beatrix felt when it came to missing the act of killing, it was Bill. It was in comments like that, that Bill truly knew that Beatrix was a natural born killer. Weird thing was, he didn't miss killing all that much right now. Maybe it was because he'd done it so much throughout his lifetime, the high had begun to sear off, or maybe it was because he didn't kill as frequently as the rest of the Vipers on a regular basis. Bill loved killing, adored it really....but he'd reached a point, where he could momentarily let it go for stronger drives.

Now, that being said, he really wanted to shoot something.

Instead, he picked up his half eaten croissant and examined its filled innards. "Things will be....hectic....when we return." In fact, Bill had some plans that he'd been processing for sometime, that he would put into action once they returned. It would only make things crazier for everybody. But, he didn't want to discuss that here...not now. It was best to savor those moments away from business for a long as possible.

He gave Beatrix a genuine smile, "You'll be back to killing soon Kiddo...I assure you..." It made him happy to know that Beatrix missed killing, again...it only confirmed his beliefs in her.

They finished eating in a lighter mood and agreed to walk that incredibly good but rich meal off as they discussed how to spend their last afternoon and evening in Paris.

"I ate too much," Beatrix confessed as the couple stepped back into the hotel room. They had just gotten back from a lovely dinner at an even lovelier restaurant. The restaurant was a typical restaurant one would find in Paris but it was ranked as one of the more exquisite ones. Beatrix and Bill had an incentive to enjoy themselves and thus doing this they ordered a great deal of food. They wouldn't be able to dine or eat like this back in Mexico, so it was best to indulge while they had the chance. The dinner conversation was pleasant and light making the end of the afternoon a worthy memorable experience.

Before heading back to the hotel they enjoyed the numerous fountains that were lit up at night. Bill tried to coax Beatrix into throwing a coin into one of the wishing fountains that were surrounded by other couples doing so. She finally complied after Bill threatened her most seriously that he would throw 'her' in if she didn't throw the fucking dime in.

And then they ended up back at the hotel. Beatrix was worn, but she wasn't tired. It had been a long and enjoyable day and she planned to make the rest of it just as enjoyable. She wasn't going to sleep any time soon. "I'm going to go wash up and then pack," she stated as if Bill really needed to know this itinerary and closed the bathroom door.

"Hrm," was Bill's mellow response as he watched Beatrix with a warm gaze as she disappeared into the bathroom. Always one to be prepared to leave, he turned to his own task of packing.

The rest of the afternoon and evening had transpired wonderfully. They had seen a few more sights as they walked around between meals. Dinner had been amazing, some of the best food Bill had ever had, and the fountains had proved to be both pleasant and amusing. While this day had perhaps been less eventful than some of their others in Paris, it would remain one of the most memorable in his mind. Likewise, he would never forget this trip.

Slowly and methodically folding his clothing, he packed up his suitcase, leaving the things he would need for the next day aside. He meticulously packed up his camera and film, not wanting anything to happen to the pictures he'd taken.

Bill went all about this in a calm, resolved and good mood. Sure, the thought of getting back to their "normal" lives was a little depressing, after the overall great week they'd spent away, but there was nothing quite like going home. Bill loved what he did for a living, it was a good life and he wouldn't have traded it for anything. Beatrix had been right when she'd called his bluff earlier in the week, on "giving it all up." Bill knew deep down, he'd grow to loathe a life away from what he was born to do. He'd created the life he lived now with a great amount of toil, and these were the best years...when it was all really paying off. Besides, it wasn't as if he wouldn't see Beatrix again. She would still be with him. They wouldn't have as much time together as they'd had this week.....but they'd still have each other. This trip had strengthened their still growing intimate relationship and Bill couldn't see it ending anytime soon. In fact, he was more than optimistic about how things would transpire once they got home.

Carefully folding one last shirt, he set it on top of the clothing in the open suitcase. Then, retrieving his flute from the small table by the patio, he gently packed it in-between his clothing. Then, he removed his watch, two rings, necklace and laid them onto of his already removed wallet, pocket knife, money clip and sunglasses. Bill always laid out his personal items in the same order and in the same configuration. Right now, he just had the bare minimum, but even with more items, there was always a particular way he arranged them. It was one of those personality quarks that took some observation to pick up on.

He turned to see Beatrix packing as well, and offered her a contented smile. Like him, she had learned how to pack for speed and utmost spatial capacity....well he'd been the one to show her that, years ago, as her teacher and mentor. Strange, how some things never changed, while others did.

It didn't take Beatrix long to stack up her belongings into her duffle bag and put aside the necessities for the coming day. As taught she could have all her belongings packed away in two minutes tops. But that was when being proper with folding wasn't necessary. That type of packing caused a shit load of wrinkles and even if Bea wasn't a stickler for neat clothes that got her a tad irritated. Well, this time she took her time packing which was a total of ten minutes. In those ten minutes she didn't do as much thinking as Bill seemed to have done. She let her mind wander briefly to the idea of going back home earlier in the day and she had no plans to 'distress' herself any more. She didn't want to deal with reality just yet.

Once finished she joined Bill's side. He had long since finished packing and was now sitting on the floor, Indian-style, beside his closed suitcase. She sat down and mocked his posture. This didn't last long as she nonchalantly as well as affectionately let her head fall to his shoulder. She wanted to say something but nothing came to mind to fill the moment adequately, so she stayed silent and docile.

Bill had been catching a few moments of meditation, when Beatrix sat down beside him and in turn rested her head on his shoulder. He loved that, he always had...and she knew he did. He kept his eyes closed for a few more moments, a small smile touching his lips. It was almost funny how calm, clear and docile they could be together and then....be so cruel, passionate and ferocious with each other. But, if one really thought about it, it made perfect sense.

Finally, opening his eyes, Bill turned his head down slightly to rest against Beatrix's. His hand, that had been resting on his knee, lifted and he pulled her closer to his side. His arm remained wrapped around her waist, holding her securely. His kissed the side of her head, blonde hair soft against his rough cheek. He went through all of these motions slowly, not wanting to break the calm moment. Bill wanted to speak, that was probably not a big surprise. He wanted to tell her how much he'd enjoyed the week and how much it had meant to him. But, he also knew that his talking...with sometimes a tendency to ramble, might just get in the way. So, he resigned to be quiet and just held her like that. She knew how he felt....he knew...that she knew....well, either way....he was sure he didn't need to really speak those words, not right now at least. Beatrix always responded better with actions anyways.

Beatrix and Bill remained in their blissful calm for an eternity when it was actually only five minutes. The tall blonde hadn't been tired before, but now settled in Bill's arms, where she felt strangely protected and safe she felt her body growing weary as the day caught up on her. As fucking scary as Bill could be, he could be just as sweet. Not nice, Bill was never nice, but he was sweet. There was that sweetness that emerged when he put his arm around her and they sat there together feeding off a forbidden and dangerous love for one another.

These were the happier memories she'd never completely lock away, just as she'd never lock away the memories of Paris. It would always be prominent in the deep recesses of her mind and no matter how unhappy she would be feeling, looking back on those memories would always make her happier.

She finally lifted her head up from Bill's shoulder and instead leaned in to give him a soft and loving kiss.

Bill returned the kiss with an equal amount of tenderness, eyes once again shutting with this contact. Without really even consciously thinking about it, his free arm rose up from his knee and his hand traced a soft line down her jaw line.

He had never and would never quite get over the reality of how beautiful Beatrix was, how....amazingly sexy she was. He'd been with allot of beautiful and sexy women...but there was something more to Beatrix, that was just almost too good to be true. Maybe it was, that underneath all of that beauty and sex appeal she was as deadly as he was. He had to admit that was something of a turn on....something....heh no…..it was hot as hell. But more than that, underneath all of that beauty....he loved her. He realized that loving her had really nothing to do with her looks. It certainly was one of the keys to his attraction to her, but he'd been attracted to her from day one. Yet, he hadn't of loved her because of that. Love and attraction were too different topics as he'd mentioned to her the day before....but Bill didn't want to think back to that.

Instead...he thought of this moment...and kissed her again, his hand falling from her jaw line to the scoop of her long neck. This kiss was a little less sentimental than the first, but it still remained on the softer side of things.

When it came down to intimate physical attraction Beatrix loved it to be on the softer side. Some would think that a woman such as her, a killer, would like it rough and dominating but she was far from that. Sure, maybe she had acted that way with other men, who she had fucked for the hell of it but with Bill she felt no need to. Perhaps this was due to the fact she was 'rough' with him in other means of the word that she saw no need to project that during these 'moments'.

So she leaned into the progressing kisses and savored them. Her hands came up to nonchalantly cup against his face before running into his hair. In the process of further kisses and contact she shifted onto her knees and turned towards him, face to face, this made it easier.

Her hands shifted to his shoulders as she inched in closer to his body as body heat began to exchange and heighten between them. Of course she couldn't have come up with a better way to finish off their trip to Paris then romantic sexual interaction and beyond.

There had been a few moments there, where things had been on the "casual contact" side of the fence, but much to Bill's delight, things had just crossed that line. She was getting good at figuring out those little things that he loved. He loved it when she touched his face like that and he also loved it when she ran her fingers through his hair. Bill had had long hair ever since he'd been sixteen or so. It had gone through various phases of lengths throughout his life, but it had always been long enough for women to do just what Beatrix was doing. He had to admit it was one of the motives to having it, besides it being "cool" of course.

He was still sitting cross legged and Beatrix had just moved around to face him, which certainly was more comfortable. As things quickly heated up between the two of them, which always seemed to happen rather quickly, he pulled her completely against him, closing the small amount of distance that had been left between them. Now, in an even more intimate posture, things progressed at a doubled rate. Bill didn't even attempt to intellectualize things, as he had a tendency to do. He turned things over to pure instinct and wanting. He couldn't think of a better way to spend their last night in Paris, and he was going to make sure that there was no amount of dissatisfaction involved.

With Beatrix how she was, he was now leaned up against the side of the bed for back support. He didn't want to not be kissing her for one second, and had thus far kept pretty true to this. His hands were everywhere, he'd lost track....and didn't care to even bother to keep it. He did manage to mumble, "I love you....so much," in her ear, before going back to kissing her.

Beatrix smiled against his lips before connecting with something more passionate. She loved him too, and she knew that he knew that she did. She wouldn't be doing this if she didn't love him. She had made that clear months back. But now she loved, and once you loved someone it was smooth from there on out…well, usually.

The heat was rising at a smoldering rate and Beatrix only intensified it by removing her top. This usually indicated that her other 'body parts' were lacking attention. Bill knew how to make everything satisfied. Her long neck craned to the side for easier kissing access and blue hues came half lidded as she melted in.

She loved him, and this, and how perfect it was. But she began to feel too stoic and too content, so that her body was sending out signals to get the pace moving again. She had been given enough attention when it came to kisses and thus they had to move on. Beatrix insisted this by helping Bill remove excess clothing.

It didn't take much for Bill to get the message that Beatrix was through with pure making out....she wanted to get down to business. Well, that was not exactly a difficult sell. Bill was as willing to comply to that as he was if given a chrome Magnum and a living target to shoot. Ok, perhaps not the most tasteful comparison, but needless to say Bill was more than happy to grant her wish.

He watched her with a blisteringly hot look, as she unbuttoned his shirt and he easily shrugged it off. He once again, pulled her towards him and starting with her neck worked his way down...giving attention to every exposed surface that was available. During his, he smoothly removed her bra without even a moment of struggle or hesitation, in other words, like a man who'd undid many bras in his lifetime. He incorporated this new exposure of flesh to his rather....intense attentions. In Bill's mind, there wasn't a woman alive, who didn't like that and he was probably right.

Thankfully, this time Beatrix was not wearing a pair of tight jeans, but instead she was wearing....or....had been wearing, before Bill tossed them aside, a pair of loose sweatpants. She had had to move back a bit to get them off and once they were removed, he pulled her back into his lap. He then set out to give attention to every inch of her that he'd neglected previously.

Bill was amazing when it came to delivering attention to those deprived places. Whoever said older men had more experience was more then correct, but Beatrix wasn't one to gloat upon the fact that her man knew exactly how to please, but it was a nice bonus. Bill knew she was enjoying this due to the muttered jumble of words, or was it sounds, that were escaping from her half way parted lips.

Well, Beatrix was certainly getting her dose of pleasure, but it wasn't nice to be greedy. Although she was sure Bill was getting his own from it, she wanted to be fair. She knew just how to play fair at least when it came to pleasing one's partner, on other occasions she played far from fair. Her body shifted a little to gain a better position upon his lap before she moved on to the next step.

Somewhere along the road of their numerous 'sexual encounters' they had gained a routine. It wasn't a typical routine of things that had to be done in a particular order, at a certain time, but more of a round of actions that were given throughout the process. Bill kissing her in places she loved was part of the routine, when her long white digits began to idly, gingerly, and affectionately trace along his chest, that was part of the routine.

She loved tracing the scars that adorned his body. This was very odd if one was to look at it in a different perspective. To Beatrix it was completely normal. By now she knew were each raised bump, jagged line, and faded line was placed without having to look (this came in handy when Bill was kissing her neck and she couldn't look down). When her fingers came to the raised surface of skin along his side she knew exactly what that was from as she knew were the line on his collar bone came from. Some of the scars she wasn't sure but she kept a note in the back of her mind to ask him later. For now she just let her mind and thoughts melt away.

Like Beatrix, Bill was very aware of the "routine" of their lovemaking. Some might think that this concept sounded boring, but for them it was far, far from it. It was simply a matter of them having picked up on what the other liked and capitalizing on that to the fullest. Bill looked forward to Beatrix tracing his numerous scars, he always found it a major turn on. Every other woman he'd been with had tended to shy away from touching those scars, which was really something of a bummer to him, since as he'd gotten older they had doubled and even tripled in number. But Beatrix took to them quite nicely and he couldn't be happier about that.

From her body language and the sounds she was making he knew he was doing everything quite right, as if he even had a shadow of a doubt in his mind about that anyways, Bill was as confident when it came to sex as he was when it came to hand to hand combat, swordplay, firearms and so on.....and that was pretty goddamn confident.

His reactions became a little more heated as Beatrix continued her tactile run of his scars, and it wasn't long before he felt a definite need to continue to move things along. With a few shifting movements, and thankfully no mood breaking maneuvers, both of them managed to remove what little clothing they had left on.

Back to the position where they'd started, things only got more intense and very quickly Bill's lust laden mind began racing. Like most men, he was always trying to figure out how to "make things work" and how they were, like this, could work. But, in the end, Bill was still rather "old school" when it came to sex. Clasping onto Beatrix's lower back, he leaned forward and gently let her down onto her back. This movement put him just about where he wanted to be, and taking a moment to grasp onto her knees for leverage, he got down to the business he felt he was even better at.

This time around their love making was more casual and gentle. For being the deadliest people in the world, they sure as hell could act like the sweetest and most genial sexual partners. Some would find this boring but for them it was perfect and thus, ended their last night in Paris more then perfectly.

It was completely 'old school' except for the minor factor that they did it on the floor. Hell, there was a plush carpet and it felt nice against bare skin, so there were no complaints. Besides, it added to the fun and bizarre factor.

Once the 'task' was concluded the disheveled blonde reached up a hand, fingers curled around the sheet on the bed, and pulled it down. The white sheet gracefully draped over the two naked and sweat glistening bodies that were now cuddled beside one another. Both were not as hot as last time, and after sex cuddling was a happily taken next step. Beatrix was still on her back but, Bill was beside her on his own back and she tilted her head to settle in the crook of his shoulder quite comfortably. She was quiet for the time being, but that didn't mean she wasn't willing to 'chat' a little later on she needed to catch her breath first.

Bill casually wrapped his arm under her shoulders, as she rested her head against him. Once again....it had been great, it always was. Some people just had bad sex now and then, but that had yet to happen with them thus far.

There was a wonderful sense of finality to their whole trip with that completed. The floor had not exactly been the intended place, it had just sorta happened that way. But then again....Bill found it rather amusing that they'd neglected to use the massive luxurious bed that had been supplied for them, and opted for the almost equally as luxurious carpet. Bill, like most typical warm blooded men, didn't have much preference in location, as long as he was having sex.

Like Beatrix, he was more than a little out of breath, and he didn't speak for a few minutes as he gently stroked the mass of tousled blonde hair falling over his shoulder. He stared up a the ceiling, which he realized for the first time, was inlayed with intricate swirling patterns of white and burgundy. He then spent a few moments, wiping the sheen of sweat off of his face with his free hand, as he continued to catch his breath.

He then glanced down at her. She looked completely docile, eyes heavily hooded, but not shut. He squeezed her shoulders a little tighter to him, as he brushed some stray bangs off of her forehead, "This is a damn comfortable floor," he quipped in a somewhat hoarse tone of voice. But he quickly grew a little more serious and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Beatrix let out a light laugh of amusement, but it was short lived as she wasn't putting much energy into it. "That it is," she breathed and slipped her arms out from under the covers to settle on top. She was gradually beginning to cool down and she knew Bill was as well. The body heat exchanging between the two bodies wasn't nearly as intense as before and was tapering off to a pleasant temperature.

It took another five minutes before both killers had recovered, and even then Beatrix felt weary. She effortlessly rolled over to her side, bent an elbow, and propped her chin up with an open palm. Blue eyes gazed down fondly at the man beside her. She kept that docile façade with a warm smile plastered across her face. Even a complete moron could see that she had greatly enjoyed what had just transpired.

Beatrix stared at him for a time before she methodically used her free hand to retrace a scar on Bill's halfway exposed chest, the rest was covered by the sheet. She traced along a rigged line of raised skin that was on the right and just below his rib cage. That pretty blonde head canted to the side. "Where's this from?"

Bill looked at her for a long moment, he had been zoning out, just looking at her with blatant affection, and he was a little taken by the randomness of the question, but being rather random himself, he quickly got on track. He glanced down at where she was exactly pointing at, obviously having to jar his memory somewhat. "Ah, that one...." he said slowly, propping himself on an elbow, mirroring Beatrix's position. "I got that in Japan." In fact, a majority of Bill's scars had been accumulated while in Japan. Those were his most violent years afterall. There were rumors that Bill had spent a good amount of years with the yakuza. But he seemed to remain rather vague on the whole thing and simply let people decide for themselves. Of course, Beatrix, having seen his small sentimental office, could probably confirm that rumor, after viewing a number of the pictures on the walls.

Knowing this, Bill decided to elaborate, after all, he did enjoy talking about these sorts of things, "I was on an assignment...there was a rival gang, younger...less experienced. I had clear orders to make a full sweep of this particular group of individuals. I was in charge of a small group myself...," he paused, trying to reorganize his thoughts, "Anyways...we were ambushed...it was nighttime I believe, I was attacked from behind, chock hold," he made a dramatic chocking gesture on himself to emphasize, "This fucker had a knife, it wasn't big...but, as I soon found out...quite sharp. I tried to get out of the hold, and he brought the knife around...I think he was trying to get me right in the heart. That was a stupid idea, there was no way his knife was big enough to manage that...either way, I moved just in time and he got me right there.." he prodded at the scar, "..right under my floating rib...I was lucky nothing vital got punctured. The knife got stuck there though, and that gave me just enough time to turn around and break his neck..." He stared down at the scar for a moment, "...I remember I was wearing a white jacket..." His gaze rose back up to Beatrix, "I went through a white jacket phase...it was the late 70's," a chuckle, "By the time we got back to headquarters...I had bled everywhere....funny thing was...it didn't hurt all that much, at that time. But I do remember waking up the next day in agony..." He shrugged, "But, that's just the way things were back then.....I'm sure you can relate," he smiled, tugging playfully at her ear.

"Of course," she tilted her head more to the side to try and evade his ear tugging, but the contented smile on her face showed she didn't mind all that much. Beatrix could more then relate to walking around with a crucial wound as if it were a mere paper cut and then be in agony the following day. She didn't have as many prominent wounds as Bill, but she had some pretty nice ones.

She nonchalantly lifted up her unoccupied arm and held it in front of Bill, in a diagonal position to where they lay. "See that," she nodded her chin to the very faint etched line of discolored pigment on the back of her arm, just below the bend in her elbow. "I was fifteen and playing around," she didn't indicate what playing around entailed as she wasn't going to be too specific on this story. "Somehow, can't rightly remember how, I smashed a window and shattered glass was all over. I slipped and fell in the pile. It wasn't till two days later that I noticed the shard of glass embedded right there." She made a small grimace as slender brows narrowed. Her lips tightened. "The second I took that fucker out it was the worst pain I'd felt. Or so that was what I thought."

She shifted to settle back onto her back and blue eyes stared up at him somewhat distantly, but she was there. "But, sometimes I compare being shot and stabbed to a shard of glass and…I still believe that glass was the worst."

Bill looked impressed by this. Of course, he wasn't so surprised to know that even at fifteen, Beatrix had an amazingly high pain tolerance. But still, walking around for two days, with a massive shard of glass in one's arm was pretty goddman hardcore. It only confirmed what he'd known about her the first time he'd met her.

"Jesus.." he chuckled, shaking his head a little, eyes focused on the scar she'd just explained. He could only imagine what sort of "playing around" a fifteen year old could be doing that would result in a smashed window....actually he didn't need to imagine, he no doubt could recall.

He nodded after a moment, "Getting stabbed...glass..whatever...is far worse than gunshot wounds See this," he rolled over briefly to show her that gunshot wound on his right shoulder, "Got that when I was twenty....just went clean through," he searched for the entrance wound scar on the front side of the shoulder, but it was harder to find and he gave up after a moment. "I just kept right on going....I was probably high and so pumped up it was easy to ignore. But," he gave her a serious tilt of the head, "As you know, that's not always the case...but still...I find bullets easier to contend with than sharp edges myself."

This wasn't exactly the typical "pillow talk" conversation that most couples shared, but the two killers never gave a second thought to the strangeness of it.

Beatrix enjoyed this type of pillow talk even if they weren't even on pillows. They were both more then mellow, and the events from earlier left them equally exhausted, which left the limits of conversation in a safe territory. She tilted her head up and hues searched his shoulder. She had no luck finding the entrance wound and thus gave up as Bill had. She leveled eyes back on him.

"Agreed. Unless the bullet is dug in deep and pressing on an artery they are much easier to brush aside. A stab wound tears a larger portion of flesh and the blood escapes no matter where you manage to get cut. Not to mention a stab wound can often assure a slow and painful death," she stated this all matter-of-factly, but with an ounce of amusement.

The tall blonde then turned more serious as arms crossed over her stomach region. "But…" a trail off to gather her words. "If I had to choose… I'd want it quick. Nothing shitty like bleeding to death. Someone could bust a cap in my crown…That or a poison and I'd be content." A timid smirk played across her face as she brought up a finger to idly trace over his jaw line.

Bill smiled slightly under her tracing finger. He looked quite fascinated by Beatrix's choice to bring up her preferred "way to go", mainly because he was morbid like that...and it was a subject he'd thought a bit about himself over the years/

He pressed her fingers to his face with his own, as he fell into deep thought for a moment. "I don't want to die...some old....," he smirked at her,"...older man...sad and weak...in my sleep like so many people seem to find so comforting. No....I don't even want to get close to reaching that point." His gaze became slightly unfocused as his thoughts turned inward, "I would prefer....," he spoke slowly, obviously putting a lot of thought into this, "...to die with honor....," Bill was a killer, but he still believed in honor, "A big battle...an old school swordfight...on a beach, or maybe a picturesque mountain....somewhere beautiful...,peaceful," he got dramatic, the voice was a dead giveaway, "Bloody...brutal....with just a touch of humor and irony thrown in. I would have to be killed by somebody worthy of killing me..." He seemed very sure on this idea; even if it was something he had really no control over. "No guns...it has to be swords." He nodded, as if that was indeed his 'final answer', but then paused, giving Beatrix a coy look, "If not that...well, than I want to die having the fuck of my life...," he flashed a wicked smile, "I'd take that as a very close second.."

Beatrix laughed. Yes, that sounded very much like a Bill way to die. She stored this in the back of her mind. She lingered on his past words a moment before blinking out of her reverie and coming to a quick conclusion. She rolled onto her stomach this time and propped her upper body up with bent elbows. Her head craned in his direction as locks of now unruly blonde hair fell in mismatched directions.

She turned cross and serious in that flicker of a second. "Wait," she began slowly. "You aren't dead." She poked a single digit against his chest playfully to reassure that he was indeed still alive. She dropped her fingers back down and her chin tilted down, brows arched. Blue eyes flickered with a tint of damage as if he had really just killed her ego. "Are you telling me that all of the fucks you've had with me have not been the 'fuck of your life'?"

Bill laughed, quite heartily, brown eyes dancing with amusement. He knew she was going to play that card the moment the words had left his mouth.

He placed his hands on the sides of her face, drawing her in closer and looking at her intensely, "Baby....," he began with deliverance, "I've had to check my pulse every single time." He seemed quite serious about this. Indeed, they had all been the 'fucks of his life', but if that was to be his way to go, then apparently he was still holding out, out of sheer will...and the utmost desire to live onto the next 'fuck of his life.' He continued to hold her face like this, intensely speaking to her, "And you know what, if that ever happens...I will count myself the most goddamn lucky murdering bastard that has ever lived, or will ever live." He was smiling but it was with a serious genuine sincerity, "I can only hope.....your face is the last thing I ever see Kiddo.....that....that is what I would want more than anything."

Beatrix smiled from ear to ear, a real rare smile that showed off pearly whites. This soon washed over into a straight faced serious smile. Bright blue eyes locked with his. "I'll try my hardest to make sure you do." She wasn't going to promise it out loud, but she did silently in her head. One way or another she'd be the last one there, even if it wasn't in the manner in which she had originally perceived she'd be there.

Her forehead dipped down to rest affectionately against Bill's. She wasn't one to take things to heart, but what he had just said she took in full stride. She didn't need to tell him it was sweet as the sparkling in her eyes was a dead give away. But the moment passed and she settled back down on the floor.

Slender brows furrowed. "Goddamnit, I don't think I will be able to will my limbs to move." She turned her head to him. "Suppose we're sleeping on the floor tonight."

Bill raised his eyebrows, "Hrm, I suppose we are," he gave her a small smile and then sitting up, he reached over her and with one vicious yank, pulled one of the silk covers off of the already messed up bed coverings. Once the cover had been arranged on them, he reached back over to the bed and pulled down two pillows. There were about twenty on the bed, and it was rather easy to find some close enough to grab.

If Beatrix had been joking about the whole idea, Bill seemed to think it was a rather good one, and made sure it was going to be even more comfortable. He'd slept on many floors in his lifetime, and this carpet was practically a mattress anyways. But, most of all...he didn't want to move, he liked he and Beatrix just like this. It seemed like an odd but appropriate way to sleep on their last night there.

Once everything was settled, he laid back down, nestling up against.....his woman. Her skin, to him, seemed far softer then the silk blanket. He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead and wrapped his arm around her torso, holding her close against him. Again, he wanted to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, he just watched her adoringly as they both began to drift off to sleep, tired from not only from their recent activities, but from their entire week in Paris.


	23. Family Reunion

That tall blonde slowly rolled over and bumped against another warm body. Lids fluttered open and groggy coated blue eyes focused on what she bumped into. Of course it was Bill, not that she was expecting to wake up to anything or anyone else. Her body was tangled in the blankets as she must have been rolling around a great deal during the night. Apparently while in her slumbering state her body didn't find the floor as comfortable as the bed. The pillow she thought she had been sleeping on was under the bed and her head was settled on the crook of Bill's arm.

A weary smile graced her features as she locked eyes with Bill. He had probably been up for awhile watching her. She had gotten used to that. Also he probably couldn't have moved much with his arm being used as a pillow. He did make a comfy pillow. She spoke up softly, "Morning." She stretched arms over her head to relieve her cramped muscles before putting them back to her sides. "Did I roll into you a lot last night?"

"Quite a bit actually....," he replied softly, "Not that I really minded of course...." As usual, he'd been awake pretty much since the first rays of sunlight had begun to stream through the large patio doors. When he woke, he found that Beatrix had, in her sleeping state, decided his arm made a more comfortable pillow then her actual pillow...which she'd tossed aside earlier in the night. He was more than happy to serve as her pillow and made sure to stay reasonably still as she had continued to sleep. He liked to catch her in those moments anyways, where he could just watch her and think about things. He tended to think a little too much at times, but it had served him rather well so far.

As she slept, and the sky gradually became lighter in the windows behind her, silhouetting her face, he thought about many things: about her, them, the DiVA's, what was going to happen when they got back, his past, their trip, the changes he was about to put into effect for the Viper's, and so on. All the while, he continued to watch her with a contended and loving look on his face.

Now, with the sun shining brightly onto them, he smiled at the groggy but awakened face of Beatrix, and pushed himself up into a sitting position, now that she'd freed his arm. "You were thrashing around like a mad woman...." he smirked at her, "I was starting to think you were having some sort of dream that I wished I could have seen..."

"I wish I could have seen it too," she muttered. She then pulled herself into a sitting position, back against the bed frame and an arm clinging to the sheet to cover her upper half, not because she was shy but because it wasn't exactly warm out. Beatrix didn't feel as if she had had a restless slumber but her movements during the night referred to so. She couldn't recall her dream or dreams for that matter and she was somewhat thankful she couldn't. But she wasn't going to let the idea of a dream filled night plague her mind and switched to remembering the enjoyment of their trip. A hand came up to muffle an on-coming yawn. She dropped hands to her thighs. "What time is our flight?"

Bill twisted around to look at the nearby bedside clock, "Three hours from now...just enough time for us to get ready, grab some quick food and get to the airport....," he began to stand up, but paused, "And coffee...," he smiled at her, "....gotta get just one more cup of that coffee..."

It took the two of them under an hour to wash up and get dressed, double check that they had everything, took one last look out the scenic balcony and check out of their room. Luckily, both of them had packed lightly and it was easy for them to tote their luggage over to "their café" and get one last cup of that wonderful Parisian coffee. On the way, they also picked up a light breakfast and were on their way to the airport via taxi with well over an hour until their flight left. Bill hated rushing to flights and he always made sure to plan everything just right to avoid that annoyance.

Both of them stared out the plane's small oval window as they took off from Paris. Bill gave Beatrix a small kiss on the cheek as they did this. There was a touch of sadness on both of their faces as they watched the city grow smaller. They were leaving yes, but memories of that trip would always remain strong in both of them.

And thus they moved onto drudging through the long plane ride to New York and another rather long one to San Diego. 'Drudging' was a bit of an overstatement, since Bill was more than happy enough to sit next to Beatrix and chat. This time they both shared the "Guns and Ammo" magazine that the stewardess brought by. It was the British version, but it was basically the same thing. They ogled the weapons, pointing things out to one another...and of course Bill prattled on about guns for a little longer than was probably normal or necessary. There was another movie, something shitty....Bill hardly even took notice of it. The food was good and much to Bill's delight, they even got cheese baskets again.

All in all the flight to New York was enjoyable and the time didn't go by agonizingly slow. One flight down, one more to go. The flight back home was starting to get on the irritable side, at least for Beatrix. She let Bill have the window seat this time and was reclining back in the chair. The in-flight movie was just as shitty as the past one and this time she didn't spend five bucks for the earphones. The magazine arrangement wasn't as pleasing and it turned out the plane had the same Guns and Ammo magazine they had already reviewed.

Bill was immersed in the news paper and Beatrix needed something to amuse herself with or she was bound to get cranky. She was a tad anxious to get home. The stresses of reality were beginning to weigh down her thoughts and made her 'unhappy'. There had been silence between the two killers for a good twenty minutes, so Beatrix abruptly turned her head to the man beside her and stated with much over-dramatic enthusiasm, "We should have a welcome-back party." Of course she was joking, like hell she wanted to see any of the other Vipers.

"Hardly likely," Bill retorted, lowering his paper to look at her. That familiar frowning, serious, business look was starting to creep over his persona. He was getting in the frame of mind to getting back down to matters of assassination and financial gain. "Although," he added after a moment, "...I will be having a little gathering of everyone soon after we return, perhaps even tomorrow." He paused, gaze wandering away from her with thought, "I have some....announcements to make that I want everyone to be present for." His eyes returned to the tall blonde, "You can have your warm reunion with Elle then," a smirk, as he turned back to his paper. He had no intention of giving Beatrix a 'heads up' on what he was going to announce. She might be his lover, but she was still his employee...and should thus find out with everyone else.

The couth European crowd on the plane had now given away to a far more uncouth American crowd. There was the sound of children crying from the couch section behind them, and a rather overweight couple right behind them decided to have a rather boisterous argument about infidelity and reality shows.

"Home sweet home," Bill mumbled to himself...who was trying to nap at the moment, as the couple turned to the subject of inane sitcoms.

By the time they landed in San Diego, both killers were more than ready to be off the plane for good. They had been flying for nearly thirteen hours, not to mention a two hour layover in New York and no amount of love between the two could keep them from not getting just a tad cranky with one another.

Bill's car, that lovely black Jaguar JX of his, was in long term parking and it took them another thirty minutes to shuttle over there. Finally, they had loaded their luggage in the trunk and Bill ducked into the driver's side as Beatrix did the same into the passenger's side. He sat there for a moment, hands on the steering wheel, as if it were a woman, a satisfied smile on his face as he settled into the seat. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed driving until this moment. He threw the car into gear, savoring the moment and they were on their way.

It took another hour or so to get into Mexico and then another thirty minutes to reach Bill's place. Beatrix's car was still sitting in the driveway, which had been under the watchful eye of Nikishi while they were away.

Bill scrutinized his abode through the windshield, as if making sure it was indeed still in tact or hadn't burnt down or something worse. But everything appeared in order, and he and Beatrix unloaded their luggage. While they were doing this, Nikishi came out to greet them. Bill met the short Japanese woman with a kiss on the cheek and a warm clasp of her shoulders. They exchanged a few quick words about how things had gone during the week. According to Nikishi, who had stayed there the entire time, it was pretty uneventful. Budd had stopped by a few times and raided the refrigerator. Elle had stopped by once, watched some TV and then left. Vernita had called and said she was back in town, back from her 'suspension' and ready to work. Nikishi observed Vernita had sounded surprisingly chipper. O-Ren was a no show, but that wasn't a big surprise to anybody. There was a stack of mail, a massive amount of voice messages, faxes and Bill's cell phone, which he'd purposefully left at home, kept beeping relentlessly...all of these things waiting for his attention.

Bill frowned, which was understandable and thanked Nikishi for her extra efforts. He sent her on her way with a polite nod and kind words. He then hoisted Beatrix's luggage into her car.

Turning to her, he gave her a weary smile. "And so....life goes on..." He drew in closer to her, "I'll call you tomorrow.....," he brushed some stray bangs away from her eyes, and leaned in to give her a rather long kiss. Pulling away, he smiled, "Now....you'd better go make sure nobody else has broken into your apartment..." He gave her hand one last squeeze and then headed inside to catch up on work...and if he was lucky, sleep.

No one 'else' had broken into Beatrix's apartment when she arrived home. The first thing the tall blonde did when she stepped through her door was head straight to the bedroom and collapse on to the bed. To her surprise, being home felt really fucking good. She hadn't missed her abode all through out their week in Paris and even on the flight she was hesitant to step through that door. But now, snuggled in her bed and clasping to her pillow, she realized she did miss it in one form or another.

She rolled onto her back still hugging a pillow to her chest as blue eyes idly stared up at the ceiling. Now her thoughts began to tread into dangerous territory. She was home and being home meant reality. She'd have to quickly get over her jet lag as well as living in the moment that was Paris and come back to the life she had taken a temporary leave from.

She fell into a more restful slumber with her minding still trailing on these daunting thoughts. The tall blonde awoke at an ungodly hour. She rolled over, still in her clothes from the plane flight and her shoes were still on, and glared at the digits on her clock; 5:15. She groaned in annoyance as she blamed her early awakening on the fact she was still running hours a head of herself. With effort she got out of bed and made herself a cup of coffee with a load of cream and sugar. It was far from the coffee in Paris and she almost had trouble getting it down, but she did and her next course of action was… peculiar.

Beatrix Kiddo slipped on a pair of sweat pants and a sports bra and went on over to that piece of wood in her living room. She was going to train at five o'clock in the morning. It would sure as hell get her back into the 'swing' of things and beating, hacking, and slashing the shit out of random objects was just what she needed.

Bill would have liked to have collapsed the moment he returned home, but he wasn't allowed to do that for many more hours. Or, to put it in better terms, he could have....nobody was stopping him, but being the workaholic he was, he set aside the physical need to sleep for work matters.

Within ten minutes of walking in his front door, he was on the phone. While talking, he was going through a stack of mail and sorting paper at the same time. This frenzy of talking and sorting went on for a number of hours, as he made various phone calls, spoke in various languages and went about organizing the huge stack of paperwork that had piled up. Amidst this, he made the discovery that Budd had drained his refrigerator and liquor cabinet of anything containing alcohol and that Elle had left a pile of smoked cigarettes on his coffee table. Bill knew only Elle would have done that and he was instantly pissed off at her. And, what irritated him more was that Nikishi had failed to notice this mess. He spent five minutes trying to rub off the nicotine stains on the fine wood, before cursing loudly and giving up on it for the moment.

Nothing quite like coming home.

* * *

Finally, five hours later, he set about to unpacking. Once that was partially finished he collapsed into bed in much the same fashion Beatrix had done, not even bothering to change...which was something of an oddity for Bill.

He was awakened the next morning by the phone. He had a very strong urge to chuck the phone at the wall, but decided it best to just answer it. After glancing at the clock, 9:32am, he was glad to have been awakened. It was far too late to be sleeping.

By noontime, Bill had called each of the Vipers and informed them to be at his place at 2pm for a 'mandatory meeting.' They all knew not to mess around when he titled an occasion in such a manner.

Making sure everything was in order, and back to "Bill standard" cleanliness, he lovingly brandished his Hanzo sword as he waited for the rest of the Viper's to show up for the summons.

By two o'clock in the afternoon Bill's living room was arranged with a deadly array of Vipers. Oddly enough every one had been completely and utterly mute as each arrived. Each Viper was now sitting in their own spot in the living room, no one that close to the other, nearly visible electric bolts seemed to be the only thing bouncing off of any of them. Budd was settled on the rocking chair, legs stretched out before him, hands clasped in his lap, and a considerably placid expression on his face.

O-Ren sat across, near Vernita in a plush recliner chair. Her face was emotionless, which didn't do much to help the situation.

Beatrix was sitting on the couch, alone. That content, bubbly, and all out happy façade she had been wearing the past week was now replaced with something more bad ass and suiting to her character. Long arms were stretched over the back of the couch and her body was slouched comfortably. She could feel their eyes, each and every one staring at her, as if she had three fucking heads. She wanted to pluck each and every eye out but she restrained herself. She wanted them to get on her case, ask her questions, and mock her because she knew that they all knew about the past week. She hated the silence. The eerie and uncomfortable silence was only worse because the second the wrong thing was said, daggers would fly.

The tension was so thick in the room that it was almost visible.

Elle Driver was sitting in the recliner nearest to the rocking chair Budd was currently slouched in. The blonde's long legs were draped over one another in her typical sexy but deadly fashion. Her lips were turned down in a sharp frown. Bill had been rather vicious to her the moment she arrived and that only set her into a further bad mood. She'd stolen a few glares in Beatrix's direction, but her fellow blonde looked like she was about to rip somebody's fucking throat out, and Elle respected Beatrix enough to not mess with that....at least not at the moment. She had been told by Budd, of all shitty people, that Bill and Beatrix had taken off to Paris for a week. Well, how fucking romantic....assholes...just picking up and leaving like that...must be nice. She didn't even want to dwell on the sorts of things they most likely had done there.......it would only cause her to go on a bloody murdering spree...and she had to save that for another time.

Vernita, who was seated across from O-Ren, in the small two person couch, stared darkly at the nearest window. Her muscular arms were wrapped around sides of the couch, revealed by the blank tank top she was currently sporting. This was the first time she'd seen Beatrix since they had nearly killed each other. Of course, Beatrix had started the whole thing...tried to fucking kill her. And who got put on suspension? Her. And who got to go romp around in Paris with the pimp daddy war bucks Bill? Beatrix. How fucked up was that? Well, fuck the bitch anyways. Vernita hid a smile. She had her own reasons to be happy, her "suspension", which turned into more of a vacation had gone quite well.....very well in fact...

"So wonderful to see all of your smiling and happy faces." Bill spoke up in a sarcastic tone from where he was standing, in front of the patio doors. His Hanzo sword was slung over his shoulder, in it's scabbard of course, his other hand in the pocket of his black slacks as he stood there surveying his group of employees. He was more than aware of the rather murderous vibes in the room, but he was very good at ignoring that factor and moving on with things that were far more important than petty personal issues. He looked at each of them in turn, with a serious expression, and then began a slow walk through the middle of the arranged chairs.

"As you all know....this particular location has been my choice of home and headquarters for almost ten years now. It has been an ideal locale and I must say I rather like it, but...certain..events of late, have caused me to make the decision to move our operation to a new location." He let that sink in as he swung his sword onto the other shoulder, "I have picked this new location, but...for security reasons, I will keep that to myself for the time being. If things go as I have planned them, we will be ready to move on in about six weeks time." He stopped, looking at them again, very poignantly, "I expect each and every one of you to accommodate this move with transfers of your own personal homes to stations near my new choice of operations. I will let you know as soon as I feel it is necessary exactly where this will be." Thus far, Bill had remained extremely businesslike and had favored Beatrix with the same cool look as the others.

"Goddamnit," was the first word out of any one's mouth since the mandatory meeting began, beside Bill's. This word came from Budd who was now leaning forward with arms resting on his thighs. He elaborated quickly by licking his lips, "Of all the times to change our location." It would appear Budd swayed either way on the whole change of locale. "But, hell, if movin' means I don't have to worry about someone sticking a gun up my ass I'm all for it."

"Not that we needed that…lovely…picture in our heads," began the docile and eerily calm half breed from her corner of the room, those hard stone brown eyes flickering on Budd. "I abide to the idea." For any of the Vipers packing up and moving to somewhere they weren't even sure of was a shitty hassle, but if it was for safety reasons, which it usually was, it was hard to disobey that order.

Beatrix decided not to voice her opinion as of yet. She knew if she said a word someone may take it wrongly and she didn't want that. Actually she preferred to remain completely and utterly silent as her own silence was helping her mentally as well as physically put herself together. Her lack of sleep and early training in the morning put her mood on a thin rope that could break. She nonchalantly slipped arms from the couch and crossed them over her chest, void blue eyes settled on Bill.

Bill wasn't expecting a huge mass of cries and whines over his decision to move. He knew those who worked for him were used to a lifestyle that wasn't exactly built on stability. He also knew that they knew better than to argue with him on a decision he'd already made. But, he wasn't a complete ass, he at least wanted to inform them in advance and in an open discussion sort of way. Most of all, they were all aware of the security risks of their profession and moving was just as expected as a false identity....or a few of them for that matter.

Vernita's flinty gaze was now locked onto Bill, but she remained wisely neutral. She wasn't too happy about this decision, especially with what had just happened on her vacation...unless of course they were moving operations to...oh perhaps...the Bay Area of California. But, she wasn't going to announce her good news to anybody. Unlike...some other people here, she preferred to keep a lower profile when it came to personal matters. Then again, Vernita could be just a little disillusioned with herself.

Elle sat silently with her lips pursed. Honestly, she didn't' care much either way about this whole move thing....as long as Bill was there. She would move anywhere Bill would, and that was pretty much all Elle gave a damn about.

Bill glanced around the room, ignoring Budd's little objection. Overall, everyone seemed fine with the idea and he was happy that it was so. He raised his brows, "Very well, than that's that...," he then sat down on the couch next to Beatrix, Hanzo sword still in hand. He sat close to her, but not too close. He continued to eye those in the room, "I'm going to need some help packing up and such....I'll let each of you know what I need as far as help goes. But, my goal is six weeks....I think that's perfectly obtainable." He leaned back into the couch, a small contented smile on his face.

"How was Paris Bill?" Elle suddenly cooed. Everyone turned to look at her, the question so randomly thrown in. Then again, such behavior was not exactly rare when it came to Elle.

"Paris was wonderful," Bill replied, not missing a beat, but his look turned cold, "Although..Miss Driver, I don't recall calling this meeting for 'Let's Share What We Did Last Week' time now did I?"

Elle's gaze dropped to the ground, "No Bill," she said in a humbled voice.

"Exactly," Bill replied with assertion, always one to put a swift and efficient end to things.

"When will you let us know where the hell we're moving to?" Vernita piped up, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

"Not sure," Bill responded, glad to be back on topic, "Probably about a month..."

"Alright...." Vernita said, seemingly ok with this, "As long as we aren't moving to fucking Maine...I hate that place." Vernita had had a distinct hatred for the state of Maine ever since she'd had an assignment there awhile back. Who knew what had had happened there...but she certainly didn't seem to like the place all that much anymore..

"We aren't moving to fucking Maine," Bill assured her with a smirk, "Bob would have a aneurism if we ended up that close to his precious CPA." He considered this, "I'd probably end up having to kill him anyways...too much competition in one area..." Knowing Bill and his sense of style, it was likely that wherever they ended up would most likely remain somewhere near the West Coast or perhaps even further south than Mexico. Beyond that, it was a difficult guess.

This small bit of banter had eased some of the tension within the room, but it was still far from comfortable.

"We should kill Bob," all eyes switched from Bill to O-Ren, who was sitting laid back in her chair, a dainty leg crossed over the other, and hands folded in her lap. She was clad in a pair of black leather pants and a dark blue sweater with a v-neck. Her façade was as cold as a statue made of ice.

"Agreed," Beatrix said with a vigorous nod of her pretty blonde head, which was up in a casual pony tail at the moment.

Budd chuckled from across the room. His expression was stoic and classic Budd as he had gotten over the idea of moving. He was just a man that didn't adapt well to change in his own personal life. Which was a surprise considering, the profession he led……but he didn't choose his profession, now did he? "Shit, you two musta really loved Bob."

"Hardly," snapped O-Ren not finding the sarcasm all that funny. Cold brown eyes trailed over to Bill and then across to Beatrix. Ever since their tirade with Bob the relationship between the half breed and the blonde warrior had become complicated. Within those few months of 'living' or 'putting up' with one another O-Ren lost a great deal of respect towards Beatrix. O-Ren was a typical stuck up bitch at times and she thought very highly of herself, thus she thought very lowly of Beatrix. When Beatrix acted so immaturely at Bob's this only fumed O-Ren's assumptions of Beatrix. In conclusion, O-Ren didn't think Beatrix to be as good or even close to stature as herself when it came to being a warrior and she would continue ridiculing this. It would be a long time and an immense challenge on Beatrix's part to gain back that respect.

"Bob and love don't fit in the same sentence," Beatrix assured Budd with a tight smile. She was hardly being as rude as O-Ren and wanted to keep it that way.

Budd made an 'ahh' sound and settled back in his chair. "I see. It's much easier to put Bill and love in the same sentence."

"Precisely," Beatrix clarified coolly.

Bill laughed, taking all of this in stride, "Of course it is, I'm far more lovable...I mean….just look at me…."

Elle snorted, and rolled her eye....which was rather ironic coming from her.

Bill leaned back, wrapping an arm around the back of the couch behind Beatrix's shoulders, "Bob's a cocksucker...no doubt about it, but I'm not going to have him killed unless I have a real reason for it." Obviously Bill didn't see that attempt on his life a few weeks ago as much of a reason, since Bob has simply been 'doing his job'. At any rate, Clarice had paid for that one. "But," he continued, "…believe me, if the opportunity ever arises...I will be more than happy to rid myself of that competition."

Vernita had been watching the little exchange between O-Ren and Beatrix very closely. She remembered, all those months back, when she'd been upset about O-Ren's treatment of her then.."friend." Now, she was only more than happy to watch O-Ren make cool mincemeat of Beatrix.

Bill, on the other hand, did not appreciate it. And after his chuckling little moment about Bob, he looked directly over at O-Ren with an intense glare. The two of them locked cool gazes for a moment. Then Bill hissed a long string of Cantonese in O-Ren's direction, that very roughly translated said something along the lines of: "Don't fuck with me O-Ren Ishii, if you do, you're going to be very sorry..." With that, he turned away from the half breed with a dismissive frown. Elle raised her eyebrow, lips forming an "ohhhhh," expression. Bill didn't miss that either and sent Elle a glare that could have cracked glass. Elle slouched back into her chair.

Bill then returned to business, "I have a pile of assignments just waiting for bloody conclusions. I'll be handing those out shortly. It's going to be a little hectic, balancing assignments with moving, but I think if I space things out....we should be able to pull it off." His expression turned even more serious, "Right now...I need full cooperation from everybody. This is essential...and I will not be very pleased if there are matters that get in the way." He paused for effect, "Are we clear on that?"

There were silent nods all around.

Budd gave a firm slap to his thigh to break the silence that lingered after the round of nods. "I say we order a pizza," he said quite suddenly and rather enthusiastically. Budd wasn't one for uncomfortable silences, he was well aware of the tension in the room, and he was hungry.

"Why?" O-Ren asked slowly. She held a similar façade from earlier but had melted down due to Bill's rash lashing of words. It didn't take much to daunt the half breed, which helped with her quick recovery.

"I heard somewhere that pizza helps."

"Helps with what?" O-Ren questioned again with a minor furrow of her brow.

"Helps with all the fucking shit all you seem to want to get out," Budd replied with a small growl in the back of his throat. As stated before Budd far from agreed with any of the actions of his comrades on various matters and he was only trying to help.

"That sounds cool," Beatrix piped up. "We can have an old fashioned food fight." She decided it was best to support Budd in his failing attempts to try and get everyone in 'nicer' moods.

Bill was all for this idea, even if he didn't like pizza all that much. "If there's going to be a food fight, please do it out on the back patio..," he said this with a smirk that was serious enough to get the point across.

The pizza ordering seemed to break the mood into something a little more casual. Bill had said pretty much all he'd wanted to say for the moment and he didn't want to push things when they were already so tense.

Bill remained on the couch as Budd got up to order the pizza...it being his idea and all. Bill's arm was now around Beatrix's shoulders and he looked to be in a good enough mood. Elle had gotten up to disappear outside, most likely to smoke. Vernita had immersed herself in a magazine, more just out of something to do that didn't involve talking to people. Everybody remained fairly amiable as they waited for the pizzas to show up, which only took about thirty minutes this time. Once the food arrived, Budd set the boxes out on the bar and everybody took their pick.

"Budd, why the fuck did you order vegetarian?" Elle looked revolted as she hovered over the veggie pizza, two large greasy meat lover slices on her plate.

"I like it," Vernita replied seriously.

"Since when?" Elle sneered.

Vernita ignored Elle and set about to load up her plate.

Bill had been hovering away from the rest, not all that interested in grabbing the first slice of pizza. He was watching his employees with a furrowed brow....his thoughts at the moment remained a mystery.

Beatrix had gotten up to take her pick on the pizza. She was relatively hungry as she filled her plate with a slice of extra cheese and a meat lover. She was on the opposite side of the bar as she filled up a tall glass of ice with soda. Soda went best with pizza.

Blue eyes calmly looked up at Elle and Vernita and shifted to the veggie pizza. Her slender brows narrowed suspiciously. "Maybe Vernita feels she needs to loose weight," she commented tartly with subtle humor in her tone.

O-Ren snickered as she extended an arm to take up a slice of plain pizza. Budd had been right, in a way the pizza was helping to settle the mood. Speaking of Budd, he was already sitting in a chair with an assorted array of pizza slices which he was half through with.

Vernita shot Beatrix a nasty snarl at her 'losing weight' comment. She had a snitty retort just waiting to throw in the blonde's direction, but looking at Bill, she decided to let it go.

Once everybody had taken their first helpings, Bill wandered over and picked out a plain piece of pizza and then sat back down on the couch, still looking deep in thought.

Elle was scarfing down her meat slices in such a manner that made one almost not want to eat anymore. "Shit....this is good," she mumbled between large bites. Vernita made a gagging face at Elle, but remained silent as she ate her far less fattening vegetarian pizza. Of course, O-Ren was the master of dainty eating....so much so, it annoyed the shit out of Vernita.

Nobody seemed to be picking at Beatrix too much so far. Maybe it was the close proximity of Bill, maybe it was her rather steely demeanor, whatever it was, nobody seemed to want to fuck around with her at the moment.

Bill eyed his brother, with a small smile, "Mrm...Budd....I've got a present for you....from Paris...although Beatrix picked it out."

Elle looked up at this, suddenly paying attention.

"You'll like it Budd," Bill continued, his smirk widening, "It's very, very small and fuzzy...probably will remind you of your d-"

"Whoa hey!" Elle interjected, "I'm eating!"

Vernita made a face, "Augh...thank you Elle..."

Bill laughed, giving Budd a brotherly joking look before picking up his slice of pizza.

Budd joined in with a chuckle of his own, as he pushed away his empty plate of crumbs. "So, Bea what twisted…fuzzy…thing did you pick out for me?"

Beatrix swallowed her mouth full of pizza and wiped a napkin across her lips before replying casually, "A bear."

"A bear?" Budd gave her a questionable look.

"We went to some weird ass museum that showed dead stuffed animals and the bear we got you is a miniature statue of one of the life sized bears," she explained slowly and accurately. She may have been steely, but she was smoothing out.

Budd formed his lips into an 'oh' as he was unsure whether he was happy about his 'present' and got up to grab himself another slice of pizza.

"Why didn't you get the rest of us gifts?" O-Ren asked from her silent corner of the room. Her cold gaze shifted to Bill but slid off to Beatrix.

"Because we don't like you," the tall blonde replied matter-of-factly. She lifted up her half eaten pizza slice and took another bite. Bill had not mentioned the gift of Budd's in front of everybody by accident; he rarely did much by accident. He watched with a small smirk as Beatrix so aptly stated their reason for not getting anybody else anything.

"Oh, Bea, that's not nice," Budd scowled at the blonde in a teasing and friendly manner from his spot at the bar where he was now deciding between a plain slice and a meat slice. It was hard to miss the faint twinkle in his eyes from knowing he got a present and the rest didn't, but he didn't gloat about it.

Beatrix swallowed and side glanced to Budd. "I never said I was a nice person."

"Besides," Bill added, pushing his empty plate onto the coffee table, "None of you would appreciate anything anyways...."

Vernita just raised her brows, as if to say 'yeah, your probably right.' As if she cared about some shitty souvenir anyways.

Elle, who was still stuffing her face, spoke up, "I've always wanted one of those mini Eiffel Towers...."

"We didn't' go to the Eiffel Tower," Bill replied with a dark look, "And, knowing you, you'd probably use it to stab somebody."

"Probably," Elle conceded with a shrug, going back to her pizza.

Nobody had decided to contradict Beatrix on her 'not a nice person' comment. And they went on eating in relatively friendly terms for a few more minutes. Then, Bill stood and purposefully walked down the hallway, only to return a moment later with a handful of those damn familiar manila folders in his hands. "Assignment time," he said in a sarcastically chipper tone.

Making the rounds around the living room, Bill dolled out the folders, each one designated by a quick scrawl of initials on a post it note attached to the front. Elle received two folders, Vernita only one. O-Ren was given two folders as well and Budd was handed one folder. Budd opened up his folder and began to skim the contents casually. "Lookie here, I get to work with O-Ren," Budd chuckled to himself finding this funny for some reason.

"Goodie," O-Ren replied acidly and crossed a long leg over the other with her folders on her lap. She'd review the contents later.

An efficient and blunt curse came from Beatrix's corner of the room. She had obviously reviewed the contents in her set of folders and wasn't exactly pleased by her findings. Shortly after Beatrix's curse, another curse came from Elle's side of the room. Hard blue eyes met with that single blue eye, and both as if on cue, shot to Bill.

Bill threw his hands up, "Sorry ladies, just the way the dice rolls sometimes."

Elle, picked up her folders and slapped them back into her lap, "Fuck...fuck...fuck....fuck...."

"Let me guess, not too happy about that one Elle?" Vernita quipped from her corner, having peered into her own folder.

"Fuck...no...shut up," she glared in Beatrix's direction once again, but quickly turned the glare back onto Bill, who was ignoring the three glaring blue eyes rather well for the moment. He leaned nonchalantly on the bar, facing all of them, "That's just the first round....I have another stack ready to go once those are finished." He seemed very pleased to have so much work lined up, which of course was understandable. Business meant money. "So, the sooner those are finished...the sooner you can move on to the others."

"Alright, I think I can take a hint Bill," Vernita scowled as she stood up and gathered her jacket and small handbag, "I'm out....I'll call you when I'm done with this shit." She cast a glance around the room and headed for the door.

"Of course you will," Bill replied, giving her a cool glance as she left.

Elle still seemed put out over her assignment with Beatrix, and she stuffed the papers back into the folder violently, looking as if she was going to mix up the paperwork for her two assignments in the process. "Fuck," she added one more time.

Elle had cursed so many times Beatrix didn't feel she needed to add in a few more. "I'm off," Budd said after he finished looking over and putting away his paperwork. He found the amount of curse words said in that past five seconds highly amusing, but he wasn't going to comment on it. He rose to his feet and began a slow walk across the room. He stopped in front of the half breed. "Come on O-Ren, let's go coordinate our schedules so we can get this shit over with." O-Ren complied with little need to detest to Budd's words and got up. She began a silent exchange of words with Bill as she followed behind Budd. This silent exchange didn't seem to fair on O-Ren's side, as she left with a hung head.

The two tall blonde's remained. Beatrix wasn't wearing a happy face. "Suppose we should follow suit and coordinate our schedules, hm Elle?"

"Oh yes," Elle cooed, "Let's do that Bea....let me just get my little black book...." she snatched up her massive purse and began shoveling through it. It was often hard to tell if Elle was just being flat out sarcastic or she really was that kooky....probably a combination of both.

Bill stood off to the side with his arms folded over his chest. He didn't look particularly happy either, but, on the other hand, he didn't really give a shit if anybody was happy or not. He paid all of them extremely well, he expected compliance. In the end, despite all of the bitching and moaning, he knew they'd all do their jobs. He'd been doing this sort of thing long enough; he'd pretty much seen it all.

Elle actually did appear to own, a 'Little Black Book.' She flipped it open viciously, "Ok Bea...when shall we do this thing....where is it? Eh...Seattle….oh boy, better pack my fucking rain coat..."

With a scowl, Bill left the room, leaving the two of them to decide on their own. If he heard anything break or any bloodthirsty screaming he'd come back, but even then...he wasn't too sure.

Beatrix had been staring at Elle as if hypnotized and hadn't even noticed Bill had left the room. She blinked hard, coming out of her forced reverie. "Oh, I'm sorry what was that?" She sat up with arms at her sides. "You own a little black book?" Beatrix wasn't sure if this was funny or fucking scary.

She shifted in her seat. "Would you excuse me while I go have a heart attack?" The funnier thing was Beatrix was asking all of this with a perfectly straight face. She let the moment pass and switched to something a little more serious…but…she could feel her heart hurting just a little. "I'm open all week but the sooner the better."

Elle chewed on her lip, peering at the other blonde from under some wild strands of hair, "You can go ahead and have the heart attack right here if you want Bea..," her eye flashed, "I might even be able to help you out on that one...." She tossed the black book onto the coffee table, "Of course I own a fucking black book!" she hissed, "Fine...let's say...Tuesday..." It currently being Sunday, "I have prior plans for tomorrow..." Who knew what those plans where, when it came to Elle, there were many strange unknowns. Nobody even really knew that much about Elle, save for Bill, who didn't say anything about her to anyone else. The only things known about Elle were: that she lived alone, she liked reptiles...she had many of them, she liked muscle cars and she loved violence. Beyond that, she was something of a mystery. There seemed to be a clear understanding that her origins were between her and Bill alone. But either way, Bill had her wrapped around his pinky finger.

Elle stuffed her black book back into her purse, "It's an early flight...so we can get this shit done in a day easily..." She stood, slinging the massive purse over her shoulder, "I'll pick you up at that craphouse apartment of yours.." she headed for the door, "BYE BILL!" She called loudly and with a great dose of annoying girlishness in her voice, as she clomped out and slammed the door behind her.

The second Elle was out the door, Beatrix was down the hall. It was easy to find Bill; he was in his bedroom unpacking. A minor note was taken that she still had been neglecting to unpack. She'd make sure she had that done before she left on Tuesday.

The tall blonde's expression was hard to read as she approached Bill, grabbed his hand not forcefully but not gingerly either, and pressed it to her chest. No, not that part of her chest, her heart. "Quick, tell me if I'm having a heart attack."

Bill stared at the tall blonde for a long moment, his expression so serious it was almost comical, "You're not having a heart attack Kiddo," he stated assuredly after a second or two, his hand still pressed firmly over her heart, where he could feel it beating at a very normal rate, if not a little faster than normal. But there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she was not having a heart attack. His lip twisted up into a smirk, "And exactly...why in the hell...are you thinking you are having a heart attack?"

She didn't move, she liked Bill's hand there, but her façade was flustered. "Elle has a little black book," Beatrix let that sink in a second before adding matter-of-factly. "And, I'm still a live and my ego is still in tact. I mean…fuck…I don't think we've gotten through a group meeting like that in a long time. That…that…is shocking. Those are the reasons I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

Bill's eyebrow's shot up, "Elle has....a.....little black book?" He looked a little thrown by this. "Oh god...." But the expression melted into a smile that rang of that familiar fondness that was reserved only for Beatrix, "Of course you're intact...." Actually, he was rather shocked himself that everything had gone rather decently. "Well," he chuckled, "on a personal note...I'm glad that not only are you still intact, but your ego is still intact and that you are indeed not having a heart attack....because any combination of the above would make me quite sad."

Beatrix let her momentary illusion of being shocked and thrown back dissipate into something softer. She put on an almost sympathetic smile. "The last thing I would ever want to do is make you sad," she cooed gently and leaned in to give him a quick kiss before recoiling. "But unless a sedative was put into that pizza I will remain shocked and amazed for the next twenty four hours."

"I seriously considered it," Bill replied still smiling, face close to hers, "I simply didn't have enough time to get up, go into the back room, open my safe, dig through my little treasure trove of potions, find the one I have aptly titled "Neuter the Vipers", come back into the living room, and put an ample dose on all four pizza's and then sit back down....without being noticed." He raised an eyebrow, "Budd was simply too quick for me." He shook his head, "So....I suppose you're just going to have live with the shock and amazement for the next twenty-four hours."

"Goddamnit," Beatrix fiercely swore. "At least I won't have to work with Elle until Tuesday, which should give me sufficient time to let the shock and amazement wear off. Speaking of which," her eyes tapered on him. "What the fuck possessed you to send me on an assignment with Elle?" She wasn't that annoyed by it, or at least her voice wasn't turning so. The shock and amazement remained a prominent characteristic for the moment. "I asked you for an easy assignment when I got back. Going on an assignment with Elle, no matter how moronic the target may be, she will make hard…..because Elle is a fucking bitch to put up with in any situation."

"Hrm...yes...I did say that didn't I?" Bill put on a pensive look, "Well....you see, part of my job is keeping you on your toes." He widened his normally hooded eyes for a brief moment, "Just never know what you're going to get. Besides," he waved a dismissive hand, going back to a casual demeanor, "I know you can handle Elle....I promise," he picked up her hand, as if to further seal the deal, "...next time...will be an easy solo assignment. There was really no way of getting around this one. It definitely requires two people and all of the other assignments were better suited for the others...that left...Elle and yourself..."

It was only with Beatrix that Bill would not only make efforts to curtail things to her preference, but also take the time to explain himself. It was a true sign that he was completely taken with her. "I don't always trust Elle," he confessed, "And....there are times. Where I feel better if somebody else was with her....I trust you Kiddo, more than anybody.....so...it's just going to have to this way this time." He offered her an imploring smile, as if explaining himself had not been enough.

Bill hardly ever explained himself, so she did appreciate this bit even it was on business terms and far from personal. She slowly turned her head and gave him a side ways glance, as if scrutinizing his words. "Alright but next time," she pointed a finger at his chest to dramatize the effect. "Don't bother giving me an easy assignment, because after working with Elle, I'll be back in the game for anything." She casually moved away from him and collapsed on the edge of the bed.

"And get that look off your face," she demanded in a cool tone, in reference to that imploring smile. Bea wasn't going to tell him that when Bill tried begging it looked stupid as it did frightening.

"What look?" He said with just as badly feigned 'innocence', as he really poured on that that expression that Beatrix seemed to find both stupid and frightening. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he continued, as he purposefully crowded her personal space in one smooth slide onto the bed next to her.

"Ohhhhhh...you mean this look," with her attention momentarily distracted to his facial expression, which had only grown a little more wicked, he capitalized on this and with extremely scary quickness reached out attacked her side, right along her ribcage, where he knew she was somewhat ticklish. Bill, underneath the entire frowning, sadistic exterior, did have a playful side, which rarely had a chance to come out. He'd never had children to play with and most of the women he'd been with weren't really the "innocently" playful sort, so he'd been somewhat playfully repressed his whole life. Only with Beatrix, had that side of him really started to express itself.

He knew Beatrix was a loose cannon at times, and took his chance that she might do him some serious damage, but he was willing to take that risk.

Beatrix began to squirm. She hated being tickled because it brought out her girly side and she was far from girly. She was a woman and a deadly one at that. Bill, knowing he scored on a very ticklish area began to pursue and Beatrix began giggling. He wasn't holding her down, so before the tall blonde could display anymore of her childishness, she sprang up to her feet and away from him.

She gave him a typical look as she took in a deep breath. "I'm leaving," she stated quickly but it was hard to miss the sparkle in those blue eyes. "I may stop by tomorrow night before I leave, but don't count on it." This wasn't because she didn't want to see him but she had a lot of shit to do before Tuesday. But before leaving, she planted a very quick and all out timid kiss to his cheek, just incase he tried to tickle her again…..but he wasn't going to, as she was out the door in a matter of seconds.


	24. Elle At Her Finest

The sun was just beginning to dip through the blinds of Beatrix's apartment, but Beatrix wouldn't know if the sun was dipping through, as she was outside on the curb. She was clad in a pair of faded blue jeans with numerous holes, a dark brown t-shirt with a round neck, a suede camel colored jacket, and a pair of heavy waterproof boots. Locks of blonde hair were down and blowing wistfully in the early morning breeze. It was hard to read her expression beneath a pair of dark shaded sunglasses but the crease in her eyebrows showed she was far from content. Her head turned to the sound of screeching tires on the pavement. Ah, Elle had arrived.

A black convertible 78' Trans Am came flying around the corner that led to the parking lot of Beatrix's apartment.

Wild blonde hair flying in the breeze, Elle Driver came to a screeching halt right in front of the other blonde, the bumper of the car mere inches away from Beatrix's kneecaps. Elle sneered, a cigarette clinging to her lips. Her stereo was blasting the rip roaring punk, metal thrashings of the band L7. She reached long bony fingers over to turn it down, just a bit.

"Hey baby...how much per fuck?" She laughed, obviously rather crudely teasing Beatrix about her position of standing outside on the curb. "Oh wait...wait…we're in Mexico..um...give me a sec...cuánto cuesta...pour...fuck...eh...chica?" Obviously Elle's Spanish was a little lacking. Her smile hardened a bit, and then fell into a frown, "Whatever...let's just go..." She continued to frown as Beatrix got into the car.

Slamming down on the gas petal with her stilettoed heel, she sent the wheels spinning for a few seconds, before they squealed out of the parking lot. She then turned the music back up to a blaring level.

"Seventy-five," Beatrix tried to yell over the ear-deafening music. When Elle ignored her and not to just be fucking annoying, but because she really couldn't hear, Beatrix jabbed a long white finger against the radio and the music turned off. When Elle gave her a chilly glare with that one eye Beatrix gave an equally chilly smile. "Seventy-five dollars a fuck," she stated again with a jubilant tone in her voice, her chin tilted up smugly. How Beatrix knew the going rate per fuck in Mexico was quite a question that would have quite an answer but Beatrix quite surely wouldn't tell. And with that she turned the blasting music back on.

Seeing it was so early in the morning they didn't have too much traffic getting to the airport. Beatrix felt like she had just been on a plane, which she had been, and wasn't looking forward to another round but at least this flight was shorter. Unfortunately the two blondes had to sit next to one another on the flight. The stewardess gave out complimentary peanuts; no cheese and bread, to the passengers after take off. Beatrix was idly picking at the food as she stared off aimlessly, her thoughts wondering.

"Hrm, I love nuts," Elle announced rather loudly as she chomped down nearly as loudly on a massive amount of peanuts...the entire contents of the packet just having been dumped into her mouth. She chewed like this for a few long moments, giving Beatrix a long look, "Mmm..so..." she stopped suddenly, "Augh...," she looked around frantically for a drink, now realizing the effects of eating a giant wad of peanuts all at once. Her own drink, a seven dollar glass of wine was long gone, and in desperation, Elle reached across and grabbed Beatrix's Slice. She drained the plastic cup in one long swill. She then made a loud "Ahhhh," noise and set the empty glass on the tray in front of the other blonde. Small bits of peanut were now on the rim. "Oops...sorry Bea," Elle flicked the bits off with a long finger, "There...good as new...," she smirked, "Don't get your little cotton

panties in a wad, I'll buy ya another one."

Elle took a moment to smack her lips and make sure she could properly speak again. "So...Bea," she began anew, "...I can picture Bill doing a lot of things, hrm..," a small, perhaps rather suggestive chuckle escaped her, "….a lot of things...But," she laughed a short little trill laugh, "...going to Paris for vacation is not one of them."

Just then, one of the stewardesses walked by and Elle reached out and snagged the woman by the arm, which surprised the poor stewardess a bit, this not being the typical way people tended to get her attention. "Can we get...one more of those delicious, thirst quenching Slice's and...hrm..a Screwdriver please?" Elle cooed, giving the staring stewardess a big smile.

The stewardess faltered, "Ah...I'm not sure...if we serve mixed drinks on this flight ma'am, I-"

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Elle's voice rose to a near shout. Even more people turned around in their seats to look at her, "Give me the fucking vodka and the fucking orange juice and I'll make it myself!"

The stewardess yanked her arm away from Elle's grip, now looking a little miffed, "I'll see what I can do ma'am.." she replied in a stern tone and quickly bustled up the aisle.

With pursed lips, Elle leaned back into her seat, "It's rather silly," she said, back to her 'normal' conversational tone of voice, as if the stewardess had never even walked by, "I mean...I could see Bill in India or like...Spain maybe, but not Paris..." There were times where Elle was trying to get to a point and there were other times where she was simply making annoyingly inane conversation to piss people off. The thing was, it was often hard to tell which one she was doing.

God, Elle was being fucking annoying but Beatrix was being calm about it. She kept a completely straight face when Elle stole her drink and left food fragments on it, even if she had the sensation to stuff the fucking thing down her throat. No, she was as cool as a cucumber, or so the saying goes and she had to remain so for both their sakes. The tall blonde casually turned her head in Elle's direction, for once those bright blue eyes didn't give a clue to her current emotional status. "It only goes to show how little you really know about Bill," she stated with a touch of know-it-all-attitude.

Beatrix knew she needed to pick and choose her words carefully and she was going to add more but the stewardess came back over with their drink. Beatrix immediately leaned over Elle and grabbed her drink. She gave the stewardess a polite smile and settled back in her chair. The stewardess meanwhile set down Elle's mixed drink with haste and made even quicker haste back down the aisle. Bea couldn't blame her.

Now with a brand new Slice on her fold out tray, Beatrix didn't take a sip of her drink. She instead snatched Elle's drink and took a long sip. Actually she only took a small sip, she hated that mixer shit, her lips were pursed against the rim of the glass only to irritate the other blonde. She then set down the glass, leveled eyes on Elle, and smirked. "I may have gotten some spit on the edge."

She turned her eyes away and let long white fingers wrap around her new glass of Slice. She was clasping to it rather tightly, as if protecting it from another Elle invasion.

"I know little about Bill?" Elle replied, with a rather annoying rise of her voice, as she snatched he drink away from anywhere near the other blonde. Despite this, Elle didn't seem all that put out that Beatrix had perhaps 'gotten some spit on the edge' of her glass. She just went ahead and drank down a few large gulps. She then set the glass down with a somewhat loud 'thunk' on her tray.

"Ya know, you've got allot of nerve to say that Bea," she said icily, fixing her blonde rival with a vile glare. "And you can just wipe that know it all smart ass bitch look off of your face while your at it," she hissed. Obviously, Beatrix had touched a nerve. When it came to Elle and Beatrix, it wasn't all that hard. And when it came to Bill, Elle seemed especially on edge.

She ripped her one eyed glare away from Beatrix, as she took another few long drinks. Only 11am and already she'd consumed both gin and vodka. "I think," she started up again, setting the glass down again, "...that I know more about Bill then you think..." Her lips twisted, "And visa versa..."

Beatrix gave a mere shrug of her shoulders. Her blue eyes were entertained in watching her fingers smear marks against the condensation on her glass of Slice. "Maybe you do," she wasn't saying Elle was right, fuck she'd be damned if Elle was ever correct about something, but she was merely 'agreeing' because she didn't want to argue, especially about Bill.

"I'm sure there are countless things we both know about Bill that the other does not, and then there are things about Bill that neither of us will figure out. But," she side glanced to the willowy blonde. "…You aren't the one sleeping with him, now are you?"

Elle's blue eye widened like a slumbering beast that had just been awakened in a very unpleasant manner. Beatrix, in just a few short words, had pushed the huge red "Don't Push Or You'll Be Very Sorry" button, or...so the figure of speech goes. In other

words, she'd hit Elle right where it hurt.

"Bitch...," Elle hissed like a true snake, her head whipping around to stare down her enemy, "You...fucking...bitch!" Her voice quickly rose to a yell in those three words. There was an uncomfortable shuffling of people, as many of them turned around to glance at the screeching blonde, many of them actually glaring. Elle could have cared less, she was too irate and one to not care much anyways, "You BITCH!" Now, she was in Beatrix's face, which was pretty easy to do on a plane. "I swear, I'm going to fucking kill you right now!"

A murmur went through the nearby passengers, as they all had just heard a very serious sounding death threat. With a snarl, Elle reached out, snatched Beatrix's Slice and tossed the contents of the glass right in the other blonde's face. Just then, the stewardess from before, along with a male steward, came strolling up the aisle to where the two killers were seated.

"Ma'am," the female stewardess began in a firm tone, "We're going to have to ask you to calm down. Your disturbing people around you," she lowered her voice a little, "...and there are children present..."

"Fuck off!" Elle spat in their direction, flipping both of them the finger.

"Ma'am," it was the man this time, sounding far more intimidating, "If you don't calm down, we're going to have to detain you."

"Detain me?" Elle laughed bitterly, "I'd like to see you try honey." Elle was simply too pissed off to tap into the small amount of reason that she possessed. Beatrix had opened up a loosely stitched together wound with what she'd said. Elle had tried so hard to put things aside for the time being, she really had. But...that...that was going too far, and now that the wound had been opened, there was almost an endless amount of hatred pouring out.

The two plane attendants exchanged looks as Elle continued seething. Her long white fingers were clutched around her tray, which was making the whole thing tremble slightly. Her death glare was turned back on Beatrix. "I wonder if the Black Mamba can fly..." she whispered in a murderous tone, "Thirty thousand feet is a pretty damn fucking long way to fall….eh...Black Mamba?"

"It sure is," Beatrix replied nonchalantly. She was busy using the coaster napkin to blot the Slice from her face. It was fairly sticky, and even though she wasn't as wet she could have been, she could still feel loose bangs clinging to her forehead.

It was a goddamn good thing that Beatrix was much more sensible than Elle, especially when it came to controlling one's temper in public. Well, that wasn't a complete truth as Beatrix enjoyed making a scene in public, and by scene that meant blood, but there was no reason for it this time. Perhaps Bea had gone too far by saying what she said but she wasn't expecting Elle to burst like that. Or…maybe she was expecting it. A fault on her own account. Either way, what was said was said, and she had to fix it.

The tall blonde coolly put her napkin down, completely oblivious to Elle's glaring eye and looked up to the two frazzled stewards. "Excuse me, are their any vacant seats available?"

The female spoke up slowly, "Oh, yes, but it's in the lower class coach…"

"That's splendid," Beatrix cut her off before she could finish her sentence. If she remained in her current seat Elle wouldn't let it go any time soon, so the only way to avoid blood shed or in this case, being thrown off a fucking air plane, Beatrix picked her next option. Of course, deep down she wanted to get Elle back for splashing the soda in her face but she was going to behave; for Bill.

She leaned down, snatched up her travel bag, and climbed over Elle. She did this very cautiously incase Elle decided to spring out at her. Luckily she made it safely to the aisle. She shifted her strap and looked to the other blonde over her shoulder. "I'll see you after we land," she instructed with an eerie calmness to her tone, which indicated to Elle a clear 'don't fuck with me', and she casually followed the stewardess to the back of the plane.

"Yeah you just do that bitch, just fuck off..." Elle hissed at Beatrix's retreating back as the other, far more rational blonde, made the wise decision to escape the situation.

Elle threw herself back into her seat, her strong jaw set in anger. Why'd Beatrix have to go ahead and say that to her? It wasn't as if Elle wasn't aware that Bill and Beatrix were sleeping together, it was pretty fucking obvious. But, to hear it...it just made it worse. Beatrix had no idea how Elle felt, how she felt about Bill. She couldn't stand it, being...second fiddle. Ever since Beatrix had come along, even all those five years ago, Bill had never treated Elle quite the same. Oh, sure...he was still charming and genial with her, but it wasn't the same with Beatrix being his focus of attention. He used to be far more affectionate with her, now...Elle couldn't lay a hand on him, without him looking at her like she was some freak that had just crawled out of a swamp. How could Beatrix even begin to understand how she felt? How Bill had done so much for her, how he'd seen the potential in her and drawn it out, and yet...despite all her efforts he was even more clueless than Beatrix. At least, Beatrix was a fellow woman...she had to have some idea how Elle felt. But Bill...Bill with his macho sophisticated mannerisms and coy sadistic attitude...augh...it drove her crazy...in a number of ways...

Stupid fucker.

He'd never know his mistake. He'd never know that he was fucking the wrong blonde. He thought he was so fucking smart, but Elle knew better, and that was the worst part of all. Elle bit her lip to stop a sudden rush of rare "womanly" emotion. She slammed a fist onto the arm of her chair. "Shit!" She clutched her now throbbing hand to her chest, as she swallowed a lump in her now tight throat.

It was going to take a good hour, the rest of the damn flight, for her to be calm enough to even look at Beatrix again without having serious, serious temptations to kick her fucking face right in to the back of her pretty blonde head.

An hour later, Elle stood grumpily outside of the baggage claim. Her own bag dropped carelessly at her feet, her long strands of hair over her face. It was raining outside, big goddamn surprise. The grey Seattle sky didn't help to lighten her dark mood. She watched Beatrix get her own bag with a sharp look. Once the other blonde had joined her, smartly standing not too close, Elle hefted her bag. "Let's get the rental car. We'll go over the assignment then..." Without waiting for Beatrix, she turned on her high heel and sauntered towards the rental car counters.

Beatrix swung her bag up onto her shoulder with a noise of frustration and annoyance as she followed a few feet behind Elle. She preferred Elle better when she was in a snotty, bitchy, and somewhat peppy mood, as this plain out bitchy Elle wasn't at all pleasant. Not that Elle was ever pleasant.

When they arrived at the rental car counter Beatrix let Elle do the renting seeing as she get there first. The other tall blonde hung back, giving her counterpart space. Beatrix was going to let the whole plane incident slide, completely. It wasn't worth lingering on to what Elle was going to continue to bitch about it. All Beatrix cared about now was getting the fucking assignment over with and going back home.

"Alight..." Elle tipped the contents of the manila envelope into her lap. Her and Beatrix were now sitting in the airport's covered parking lot in their rental car. Elle had wanted to rent a Coup de Ville...but apparently they didn't carry such "classics" in supply at this shitty airport. So, they were stuck with some boring silver Japanese made sedan thing.

A small collection of papers, snapshots and oh-so-Bill-like post it notes were now scattered around. Elle began sorting through them until she found the main information sheet that she was looking for. "Elroy Fitzgerald," she scowled, "His parents should be shot for naming him that...and his...partner in crime James O'Neil." She skimmed a few lines, "Meth dealers...oh great, Bill sunk low on this one...Hrm…those are some lookers...," she handed Beatrix two snapshots of their targets. One guy, in his mid-thirties, had a head of long dreadlocks and a scruffy goatee, the other younger, had dirty blonde hair and a thin dour face.

So far, Elle was pretending rather well, that she hadn't just flipped out on the plane. But, who knew how long that would last. She read on, "Eh...here's the problem….these two assholes...hired up a bunch of gang bangers to be their bodyguards. I guess they've had a couple attempts on their lives and are paranoid now." She frowned, as she continued to skim, "Yeah...looks like a whole slew of Asian gang members are keeping a close eye on this place where these two are hiding out." She tossed the rest of the papers into Beatrix's lap, "Real nasty fuckers I bet." She started up the car and veered off the direction she was pretty sure led to their destination without another word.

By the time Elle pulled up to the building, Beatrix had sorted out the pile of papers on her lap, read them over herself, then put them away. As the car came to a jolting stop, the tall blonde peered through the rain slicked window to view their destination. It was a very small brick building that was crammed between what looked to be a triple XXX shop and a dingy diner. The building they were supposed to crash the party in was most likely a private club and the giveaway was the no trespassing sign posted on the front wall.

Elle frowned, as she leaned forward, her elbows on the steering wheel, "We don't have any weapons..."

This sometimes happened, having no weapons at the start of an assignment. It was nearly impossible to get them on the plane and often it was hard to get anything beyond a hunting knife once you got to your destination. It certain cities the DiVA's had connections where they could show up and easily get black market weapons within a matter of minutes. But, unfortunately...Seattle had yet to reach Bill's list of weapon connected cities. Not that this was much of a problem. Both women could easily deal with having no weapons and it was easy to get them once you'd killed a couple people with your bare hands, whom just happened to have them on their person.

Beatrix turned her head to look at Elle. Elle looked a little less bitchy which could mean that the whole assignment could go over well. "So," she began slowly and accurately. "I suggest we go in and kill them." That was a major duh, but to Elle she would get the clue that that was saying; they go in, no introductions, no acting, just kill the bodyguards, and get to the targets.

Elle continued to stare out of the rain streaked windshield and then with a sudden turn of her head, came back to reality, "Yeah...let's do it..." Like Beatrix, she was all for just getting in there, killing anybody who stood in the way of their targets, killing their targets and getting the hell out of Dodge.

She kicked open the driver's door with her long leg and both tall blondes made their way towards the dirty entrance that served as a front door. They had to maneuver their way through a squeaky chain link gate and a front yard of rather unappealing trash. Once they'd reached the front door, which was covered with a ripped screen door, Elle balled up her bony fist and knocked loudly. It didn't take long for the door to be opened rather widely. A dirty looking guy in a flannel shirt, a green stocking cap and jean shorts opened the door, a cigarette in his mouth. "Read the sign bitch," he growled, "no trespassers! Get the fuck outta-"

But, he didn't have time to finish his threat, as Elle reached through the torn screen door and grabbed him by the sockets of his eyes. He let out a yelp and she yanked him forward, so that his groin connected right into her knee with a rather sickening crunch. At that point, he was pretty much out and she yanked him through the rest of the screen door. He landed at Beatrix's feet, his eyes bleeding, unconscious and doubtfully never able to breed. "Asshole," Elle snorted and stepped through the frame of the destroyed screen door. She pushed the old rickety red door behind it fully open. This revealed a large front room. It was badly lit, the only lighting coming from a television in the corner and a couple neon signs on the walls. The rest of the room was hard to make out at this point.

There was the flash of a knife from Elle's left and she easily dodged out of the way just in time as it came slashing down. She grabbed her attackers arm and broke it over her own shoulder. In one swift movement, she took the large knife in her own hand. With a satisfied smirk, she spun around the other direction, a small man with a baseball bat facing her.

Beatrix was busy getting a knife off the guy that Elle had 'greeted' at the door. It was a shitty Swiss Army Knife but it could still do damage. She stepped over a few already crippled and most likely dead bodies to spot her partner dodging a menacing baseball bat. With a small tug on her lips of amusement she turned her attention to the far corner of the room where three bodyguards were making an appearance.

The tall blonde warrior turned towards them. Blue eyes flickered intensely, obviously anxious for some blood shed. The first one came at her screaming in hot hostility but his scream was cut off by the sloshing sound of blade meeting gut. The man fell to the floor in a heap, drowning in his own blood. This obviously made the other two upset as both came at the blonde. She put on a haughty expression as the two approached and then effortlessly performed a back flip, the heel of her foot connecting with a jaw that snapped as teeth clashed together.

She ended up landing near a small table, but she was too late to catch the glimpse of another body guard, not from the first set of three, come at her with a raised knife and knocking her to the ground. She hit the small table, which was such a cheap piece of shit it immediately shattered to pieces. Now with a rather gangly guy on top of her, Beatrix was using her hands to push away the knife that was aiming for her chest.

She kneed him where it hurt, but that was to no avail, so she tried another available option. Blue eyes flicked over to the ground where she spotted a cigar that had fallen from the table that broke. Someone must have been smoking before they barged in. The tall blonde, always one to use her resources, plucked up the cigar, and ruthlessly pressed that burning hot tip into the man's eye. He screamed immediately, letting off. Beatrix took this opportunity to grab his knife and stick it straight through his neck.

It became obvious to both killers that there was definitely two sets of people currently occupying the building and thus currently attacking them. There was a group of men who appeared to have just been there to get a fix and buy some smack. These guys were easy to off as flies. Most of them were high and they had no idea what the hell they were doing. The second group, the Asian gang members turned bodyguards, were proving to be far more challenging. These guys were tough, far smarter, sober and at least somewhat trained.

Having dealt with members of both of these parties, Elle had made her way into the kitchen area. It smelt awful. She quickly figured out why. There were vats of chemicals sitting out, mixing pitchers, needles and droppers spread around. Apparently this was the "lab" part of this meth lab. It was said that it was often easy to figure out a meth house in your neighborhood by the smell, Elle could completely understand that concept at the moment. "Augh...Jesus H. Christ..,." she mumbled, covering her face with one hand, as she spun around the stove to kick a guy in the face. Just then, one of the bodyguards came flying into the room, a gun in his hand. Well, that was no good. Reaching around, Elle grabbed one of the many metal vats that had been sitting on the stove by the handles and flung its contents right into the man's face. He let out a piercing scream. Elle didn't have time to figure out if his face was burning from the chemicals or from the heat of the liquid. The man flung himself backwards, right over the kitchen sink and crashed through the window above the sink...his now still legs hung over the edge.

Elle didn't have much time to savor that victory. Another one of the bodyguards came at her from behind, attempting to grab her around the neck. She glanced down at the vat still in her hand; the bottom was still glowing orange. With a sneer, the willowy blonde spun around and caught the guy in the face with the edge of the metal vat. Off balance, the man staggered and Elle rammed the bottom rim of the vat right into his chest. There was a good deal of hissing from his skin and clothing, not to mention blood curdling screams. He was out of the game.

Not wasting anytime, Elle dove for the kitchen drawers looking for another weapon. Sadly, the gun had gone out the window with the stupid fucker who was still hanging partially out of the house. She quickly found what she was looking for as she revealed a large drawer full of knifes. "This one's for you Vern...you knife wielding bitch," Elle whispered, as she pulled out two large, very large, butcher's knifes. Now, with two blades, Elle bolted out the other side of the kitchen, swinging her weapons like some tall blonde, one eyed, food processor...slicing and dicing anything that stood in her path.

She slashed her way to a hallway, where as she glanced over the shredded body of the last idiot to try and attack her, she spotted one of their targets run across the hall. It was the younger blonde guy. He'd only been visible for a few seconds, as he literally opened one door, ran across the hall and flung himself through another door...but she'd seen him alright. Elle smiled wickedly and bolted down the hallway. She could hear the sounds of Beatrix's rampage, and despite all her hatred for the other woman, she had full confidence that Beatrix could take care of business just as much as herself. Elle knew she could leave the main action for a moment to track this target.

Beatrix had spotted out of the corner of her eye, as she bashed some asshole's face in, Elle go down the hall. She wasn't a hundred percent sure whom she was tracking down but she had confidence in Elle, not much, but there was a little. Of course Beatrix could handle herself. She could off the remaining bodyguards without breaking a sweat. Well, okay, that was exaggerating, but she could do it.

About ten remained and they were beginning to gang up on the tall blonde warrior. Blue eyes flashed in killer mode and her façade remained hard. All she had in her hand was that shitty pocket knife, but before she decided to find herself a new weapon, she needed a proper place to dispose of the one she was already wielding. The first of the bodyguards began to move in, and before he could make a move, Black Mamba flicked that pocket knife, the blade digging deep into his forehead.

Obviously this would get the other members irritated and they came at her full force. Lucky for Beatrix no one had a gun, or she'd be in deep shit that she didn't particularly feel like digging her way out of. Actually this gave her the opportunity to go full fledged kung fu on their asses', which she happily did.

A few tiger-crane tactics, high kicks, neck-breaks, broken limbs, and missing eyeballs and the group of bodyguards had dwindled down to three. She could only hope Elle was having as much success as she was.

Elle had stalked her "prey" into a small living area that appeared to be a connected bedroom, TV room. At first she couldn't see him, but she could hear him and smell him...breathing like a scared mouse, smelling of pure freight.

This was Elle's favorite part of killing. And much like the cat stalking the mouse, she waited patiently, moving little, her eye piercing through the dimly lit room. Her boney knuckles sprung out from her grip on the set of butcher knives...their once reflective surfaces now slick with blood.

It was amazing how little noise she could make in those high heels when she chose to. She slowly, slowly circled around the room, knifes making slow half moon like motions in the air. Elle was many things...many of them not always advantageous to her profession, but she could be one hell of a killer. After all, she'd been killing a lot longer than her years with the Deadly Vipers. Bill hadn't made her into a killer...she'd made herself into a killer. But what Bill had done was fine tune those skills of hers...making her a more streamlined killing machine. Goddamn Bill...that was the last thing Elle wanted to be thinking about right now and she made a quick drop to a crouch, as if to cleanse her mind with that motion.

It was at that moment that spotted her target. Her lower viewpoint had allowed her to see his knee as it jutted out from underneath a card table around the corner of the room. With a wicked grin, Elle closed in, her long legs taking her a great distance very quickly. She caught a glimpse of the white's of the man's eyes as they bulged in freight at the sight of this one eyed blonde vision of death. She couldn't be sure if he was armed in the dark lighting, and she knew better than to take a perhaps fatal risk. So, instead...she sprang out into a baseball like slide and caught the man right in the side with her heels, sending him rolling out from under the table.

He yelled, clutching at his side...crawling on the carpet. Now, under the table, Elle glanced up and kicked her legs up, lifting the rather light piece of furniture into the air and sending it smashing right onto her target. The man yelled out in pain once again and Elle was quick to kick the table off of him, still in a low crouching position. This entire time, she'd been using her wrists for support, as the knifes were still occupying her hands.

The target rolled onto his back, clutching at a bleeding mouth. Elle sneered. This was almost too easy; the guy wasn't even capable of defending himself. With a shrug, she leapt onto his chest, which caused him to suck in a hoarse gasp of breath, as there was the sound of a number of cracking ribs.

Now, reared up above him, her two butcher's knifes poised, Elle's rather sick and twisted mind ran rapidly through an almost endless amount of ways to put an end to this asshole. And because she was completely sadistic and not always one to see the "art" in a swift death, she chose something on the incredibly painful and inhumane side of things.

With a yell of triumph, she drove the two blades right down into the guy's upper thighs...so deep that the tips of the large knifes stuck into the floor underneath him. This time he screamed, and in response a large smile spread across Elle's face. She climbed off of him and stood up, her hands falling on her hips. "I just punctured two of the three largest arteries in your body," she spoke down at him in a calm but mocking tone of voice. "Now, I could puncture...the largest one in your body...in your neck," she tiled her head to the side as the man just screamed up at her, "But...that's no fun...you'll die far too quickly. I like you like this..."

Right away, small fountains of blood were spurting out from his legs...forming large crimson pools around his body. And despite his best efforts, he couldn't move himself or even attempt to sit up; he was already too weak from loss of blood. His screams were now dying down to frail gasps, as every ounce of color drained from his face.

Elle pursed, her lips, watching him for a few moments longer. "Well, I don't about you baby...but it was great for me." And with that, she raised her heel and kicking down on the hilts of each knife, drove them only deeper into his flesh. Then, she quickly turned on her now bloody heel and left the room and the slowly dying target.

Sauntering down the hallway, she wiped the specks of blood on her face, which only made them into a series of gory smears. That had felt good...real good in fact, sadly that poor fucker wasn't the real focus of her hostilities, but he'd have to do...for the moment.

She spotted the real source of her hostilities. Beatrix was making kung fu chop saki of a group of bodyguards. Elle caught her eye, "One down...one to go.." she shouted, as she raised two fingers in the universal "peace sign" so that Beatrix could clearly see the gesture. Then, she slowly lowered her forefinger, letting Beatrix see how she really felt.

Beatrix was so momentarily distracted by Elle's flippant display of feelings, she almost didn't catch sight of the bodyguard running up behind her. But she did catch it in enough time to snatch the man's wrist as he approached and effortlessly flipped him over her shoulder. He landed hard on the ground. The tall blonde still held to his wrist which she began to twist. The bones cracked and the man screamed but the blonde was staring at the other blonde in a display of her own feelings.

Elle either didn't care or was too busy being a bitch that she turned back on that bloody heel of hers and stalked off to find the last target. Not that Beatrix much cared. Let Elle handle the 'real kills' for a change when they were stuck together.

A smug smile tugged the creases on her lips as she dismissed her own rash thoughts and turned to the two remaining bodyguards anxiously awaiting their deaths.

Elle was perfectly happy to let Beatrix deal with the bodyguards, while she prowled around looking for their second target. After that last kill, Elle's blood lust was now at a high and she was more than content to continue her rampage of carnage onto the second sorry asshole.

Unfortunately for them, a few guys got in her way as she walked around the dingy place. They all met swift and vicious deaths. She didn't have time to make each one a masterpiece as she was in a rush to not let their second target get away. But, these quick deaths did serve to provide her with some new weapons. Now, as she climbed her way down into the basement, via a set of sagging and dusty looking stairs, she was wielding a small pick axe and an iron fireplace poker. It was amazing the sort of weird shit that people attacked you with, and after killing the owners of these eccentric weapons, they became her own.

The rest of the house was growing quieter, as its occupants either had ran off...or like most of them, were now lying dead strewn about the inhabitance. The whole scene was quite grisly, more than enough to make the average person turn away with unease and most likely nausea. But Elle, like Beatrix, didn't' take much notice of the whole bloody scene...she was far too focused and jaded to even bat an eyelash.

The old stairs creaked loudly under her heels, and after a moment of disliking this, she leapt off the side of the railing, opting to just skip the whole stair thing and land with a crouch in the middle of the concrete floored basement. The whole basement looked as if it had been converted into something of a "living space." There were sleeping bags, bedding and not entirely sanitary looking mattresses scattered about. Along with these, there were a number of backpacks, beer cans, a rather large bong, random magazines, used plastic utensils and dirty paper plates. There were also a number of posters on the walls: a couple of trashy looking Playboy centerfolds, one so trashy that it wouldn't have been shown in Playboy, a calendar with various hot rods from 1989, a picture of David Hasselhoff posing in Baywatch attire, that somebody had rather comically replaced his head with that of Richard Simmons and next to that a huge Papts Blue Ribbon beer poster. The whole room was lit by a dirty fish tank and a corner torch lamp that was missing one of its three bulbs. There had been florescent lights on the ceiling, but it appeared all of them had been broken. The only in tact one had been replaced by a black light tube, which at the moment was not in operation. Perhaps this had been where those who just couldn't seem to get away from the meth house crashed, or maybe a group of street kids. Who knew...who cared.

Elle stepped quietly over this spread of living area, slowly making her way across the large room. Over the hum of the fish tank and the scuffle of Beatrix VS. the bodyguards on the ceiling, Elle could hear something...it was coming from the far corner of the room, behind a partially open door.

Brandishing her weapons, the willowy blonde crept over to the door, having to take a long step over a turned over cooler. Not wasting any time, she kicked open the door with a long roundhouse. It was so rusty and in need of repair, that the door came partially off its hinges at the force of her kick. She spun into the room, weapons at ready. It was a bathroom and not an entirely clean one at that.

Elle scrunched up her nose and scanned the dingy tiled room in one quick glance. Her eye fell on the bathtub, with the shower curtain drawn across. She sneered. That was the sort of trick five year olds pull when playing hide and go seek. She reached out and viciously ranked the curtain right off the hooks.

Only to come face to face with a 45 caliber pistol.

At the other end of the gun stood the second target...mid-thirties, head of long brown dreadlocks, goatee, piercing brown eyes. Next to him stood a young woman...maybe twenty. She was unarmed, and appeared far less resolved than her male counterpart, staring at the one eyed blonde with an expression of freight. The man was shirtless, revealing a large tattoo of a Chinese dragon inked across his chest...along with a large amount of Chinese writing swirled around it.

"Don't move," the man spoke calmly...and more surprisingly, in Cantonese. "Drop both of those weapons, or I blast your remaining eye out the back of your head."

Elle gaped, sorting through her whirling thoughts. Perhaps there was more to this assignment than first met the eye. She hadn't thought much of the tattoo's...just about every other white hippie in America had a Chinese tattoo nowadays. But, the fact that this dreadlocked meth dealer spoke impeccable Cantonese made her think twice.

"Very well," she replied in Cantonese...which she wasn't great at, but that miserable old fool Pai Mei had made her learn at least enough to get by.

The man watched her as she slowly bent down and set both of her weapons down on the tiling. Elle might be a hateful bitch, and known to be rather irrational...but she wasn't stupid. Standing back up straight, she raised both her hands away from her body. She knew this whole routine well enough.

"Alright," the man spoke in English now, "back away..." Elle complied, her eye bouncing back and forth between the target and the rather scared looking woman at his side. Both of them stepped out of the bathtub, which Elle mirrored with a backwards step...this took her back out the room.

"Upstairs," the man ordered, his gun twitching to the side to indicate the rickety flight of stairs now to Elle's right. "Keep moving slowly...," he continued as he backed Elle up, "...no bullshit..."

Elle nodded and rather awkwardly stepped backwards up the stairs, her gaze fixated on the barrel of the gun. After a few moments of rather ungainly movements, she was back on the ground floor. The target reached out and spun her around. Now, the gun was pushing on the back of her head. "Take me to your friend," he said...again very calmly.

Not one to argue at this point, Elle slowly walked through the house until she came upon Beatrix, putting the final finishing touches on her last kill. The target remained right behind her, the scared young woman tagging at his side.

"Bea," Elle said, her voice tight, "I do believe this is Elroy Fitzgerald."

Bea looked up from her crouch on the floor. Beside her was a jerking body pooled in blood and his two legs were bent in very peculiar directions. Either way he was dead as well as the rest of the bodyguards. The tall blonde warrior slowly rose at Elle's appearance. Her blouse was splattered in blood, droplets decorated sections of her face and mingled into blonde bangs, and a shine of sweat was on her forehead. Dangling in her hand was a 22cal, which she had yet to raise. Hard blue eyes took in the situation carefully.

If the gun pointed at Elle's head wasn't so serious Beatrix would have found it highly amusing but right now she was far from amused. What the fuck? She thought she could trust Elle not to fuck this up and here she was with a fucking gun to her head and their last target certainly not dead. Okay, maybe it wasn't completely Elle's fault that she was in this predicament, but Beatrix didn't feel like rationally blaming the correct person.

Well, predicament or not, unfortunately Bea had to help Elle out on this one. Her slender brows furrowed and her chin canted down to her chest. "Hello Elroy," she spoke in an overly calm tone, mimicking Elroy's as if she had heard him speak. "Mind telling me why you have a gun pressed to my partner's head?" Of course she knew why she was just making casual conversation to help evaluate the stakes.

"I think you know why," Elroy replied, not a smile, nor smirk or any sort touching his face. This guy appeared to be as flat as a pane of glass.

Elle continued to stand there...what the hell could she do? But she was smirking, still a smart assed bitch, even at gunpoint.

"I want you to drop that gun," Elroy continued, speaking directly to Beatrix. "If you don't drop that gun in three seconds, I'm going to put a tunnel in your blonde friend's head here, and very shortly afterwards put one in yours."

Elle rolled her eye, taking full advantage of not facing her target. This guy wanted information, she could tell...just by the way he was acting, postponing things...laying on heavy handed threats but not really doing a damn thing.

Elroy, still completely placid, began to count "...one...two..."

"Fuck this," Elle spat and spinning around she swung her arm around to move the barrel of the gun out of range of her head...it fired off, blasting a hole in a window across the room. But, instead of going for Elroy, Elle grabbed the young woman who had been standing next to him.

The girl was shaking like a leaf and she was far too easy to take into an iron grasp. Elle pinned her small frame up against her own taller one, wrapping an strong arm around the girl's shoulders. She then formed her hand into a claw and clamped it over the girl's throat...right where her vocal chords were. Elle's fingernails dug deep, already blood was beginning to ooze out from underneath them.

Elroy had now regained his posture, and his gun was wavering between Beatrix, who still was holding her gun, and Elle, who was holding the girl.

"Oh dear..." Elle trilled, "Now we've got ourselves in a little pickle..."

Elroy's jaw set, his first show of emotion, as his eyes focused in on Elle's clawed hand.

"One move...Elroy," she hissed, "And I tear your little girlfriend's throat out...it's not all that hard...is it Bea?"

Beatrix shook her pretty blonde head slowly and reassuringly. Leave it to Elle to do something like that. Well, Bea could do things like that quite easily too. She now poised her firearm at Elroy, who had Elle at an uncertain gunpoint. Her fingers flexed on the cool metal. "Now you're left with two choices. You could drop your gun or I could make you drop it, but either way we're going to kill you," the tall blonde said slowly with just as much assurance as she had when she agreed with Elle ripping out a throat. Which she had seen before; talk about sick and twisted.

Elroy seemed to consider Beatrix's words for quite a few moments, which was a good idea considering his decision would very likely decide the outcome of him dying or not.

Of course, Elle was pretty sure he was going to die anyways...it was just a matter of who else was going to go with him. Her claw like fingers dug deeper into the whimpering young woman's throat. The large tearing eyes staring up at Elle made no difference to her. In her mind, life was hers to take at her own whim, and she could easily take the one in her hands no matter how much begging was involved.

Elroy's dark eyes flickered...too quickly….it was a dead midway he was about to do something. Both Elle and Beatrix saw it. He made a motion, as if he was going to drop his gun...but then, from his low crouching position, changed his mind, and fired the weapon at Elle. Luckily, due to his telegraphing, she'd had a fraction of a second to move and the bullet intended for her leg, ripped through the large side hem of her black pants. She was still holding tightly onto her hostage.

Well, he'd done it now...and everybody knew it.

"Ooooo, bad move Elroy," Elle chided him with a slow shake of her head. The young woman's eyes widened even further, knowing her fate, and she opened her mouth to scream. But she was too late, Elle generally didn't fuck around when she said she was going to kill somebody, and with a vicious yank of her hand, she pulled a somewhat indistinguishable bloody wad right out of the young woman's throat. This rather innocent bystander, gasped, but no sound came out...and then, eyes rolling back she collapsed to the ground.

In the meantime, which was all of about two seconds, Elle had faith that Beatrix would know what to do with Elroy.

Of course she knew. Beatrix raised her weapon and without a blink of the eye, she effectively shot Elroy point blank in the head. Blood sprayed to the back wall and his body fell limp to join his girlfriend in the bloody mess on the floor. No further flinch from the tall blonde as she tossed the gun to the ground, which wasn't any use once the assignment was through.

Blue eyes came up to meet that single blue. Bea didn't need to express to Elle how sick that was. This only reaffirmed how fucking nuts the willowy blonde was. She took a step forward, her expression docile. "Shit," a brief pause. "Go wash your hands."

Elle shrugged, as if plucking a person's throat out was on the same level as blowing one's nose. "Yeah...alright..." she regarded her hands, one of which as exceedingly more bloody than the other, as she weaved her way around dead bodies to the trashed kitchen.

It took Elle a few minutes to get the large amount of gore off of her hands and face. Both women knew they had to move quickly, since it was likely that at least somebody in the surrounding buildings had heard gunshots. It would only be a matter of time before law enforcement types showed up, and meeting them was highly undesirable.

Within five minutes, the two blonde killers were back in the car, and speeding away from the scene. Just in time too, three police cars came flying around the corner in the opposite direction, not giving a second glance to two blonde ladies in a conservative looking grey sedan.

As Elle drove, she always liked to be the one to drive, she shrugged off her blood spattered jacket and stuffed it into a small duffel bag in her lap. Carrying a waterproof, easily disposable bag for bloody clothing was something that all of them had learned to do early on in their training.

Once they reached the airport parking lot, Elle changed in the car...making Beatrix stand outside while she did so, and then Elle did the same for Beatrix. Then, they both tossed their bloody clothing bags into a nearby dumpster. Looking as good as new, both blondes checked the car back in and proceeded on the way to their flight.

This time there was no argument as both Beatrix and Elle agreed they should sit in different rows, hell even on opposite sides of the plane. The stewardess seemed more than happy to comply, since the flight wasn't very full. They both seemed aware of the fact that they simply couldn't be near one another longer than an hour...tops, without something vile ensuing.

Thus, the flight back to San Diego was uneventful. Elle was happy to pick up her Trans Am, and the two killers made the drive down to Bill's place in silence, well...a blaring radio and no speaking to one another that is.

Elle stopped the car with screeching tires in front of the familiar adobe tiled patio. She turned her head to glare at Beatrix, "Here you are...I figured you'd rather me drop you off here...at your new home, instead of your old one." She sneered, still speaking in that calm but mocking tone, "If you'd prefer to be there...you'll just have to get Bill to drive you...I'm sure he'll just hate that." She lit up a cigarette, her eye narrowing. She looked like she was going to say something else to her blonde cohort; but instead, she just took a long pull on her cigarette and threw an arm casually over her rolled down window. It appeared that whatever she wanted to say to Beatrix, she decided to best leave unsaid.

"It's always a pleasure working with you, Elle," Beatrix said tartly disregarding her other comments. She didn't want to hear Elle's bitching and thus grabbed her bag from the back seat and got out. If she stayed any longer in that fucking car she was going to be tempted to say something not so nice to her blonde counterpart and being in close range of Bill that was never a wise decision.

So, she got her boney ass out of the car and walked up the patio in hopes of seeing a much 'nicer' face.

Elle didn't give a second glance at Beatrix, as her blonde rival got out of the car and strutted her little ass into Bill's.

Fuck her. She'd get her chance at Beatrix Kiddo...it was only a matter of time.


	25. Packing Up

When Beatrix first entered Bill's place, it became obvious that things were already 'in transition' so to speak. There were a number of large boxes already scattered around and a couple bare shelves and walls, where things once had been. Of course, overall it remained basically unchanged...but there was a definite sense of things slowly gearing up for the DiVA's upcoming move.

Nikishi was walking around randomly...it was always difficult to tell what exactly she was doing, but she was always doing something.

Bill was currently quite stationary, as he was sitting on the main couch in the living room, his legs pulled up into a trademark cross legged gesture, his back pressed up against one of the arms of the large couch. He had a silver laptop computer sitting on his knees, which always looked a little odd amidst his rather old school aura. His hair was tied back, revealing a slightly scowling expression as his ringed fingers were typing away...rather slow and methodically at the keyboard.

He glanced up at Beatrix's arrival, and a warm smile instantly replaced the scowl. There was no mistaking the look on Bill's face when he looked at Beatrix, specifically as of late. "Hey Kiddo...how'd it go?"

Beatrix stood in the midst of the living room with arms casually crossed over her chest and that pretty blonde head canted to the side. Her façade was hard in lingering annoyance but blue eyes were soft as she looked upon Bill. "Not counting Elle's temper tantrum on the plane or that she ripped someone's throat out…" She pursed her lips and gave a tight nod. "I think it went well. I'm fine, but I wouldn't say the same for our target."

The tall blonde slowly made her way across the living room to the couch. She knew Bill hated technology and according to how long he had been 'fighting' with that laptop she knew he'd lose his patience soon. She planted herself on the arm of the couch as Bill was efficiently taking up the entire thing. She'd have sat on his lap but the laptop had claimed that spot, dammit. She leaned back a little as the weariness of the day was setting in. "How have things been here?" She questioned casually craning her neck to peer over his shoulder at the monitor.

"Hrm, rather well...overall," Bill replied, going back to the computer momentarily. He decided not to linger on Beatrix's comments about the assignment. Elle had had a few temper tantrums on planes over the years, and the fact she'd ripped somebody's throat out only qualified as an 'average Elle day' in Bill's mind. The target was dead, neither of his Viper's were dead or badly harmed...it appeared to have been a success.

"I wish I could say the same for this fucking computer," Bill added after a few seconds of glaring at the screen. He then began doing what many computer literate people termed 'hunt and peck' with the keyboard. It was actually rather annoying to those who could type and probably even more annoying to those who couldn't. And like most people, Bill was blaming the computer, not himself, for its inability to do what he wanted.

He seemed to be attempting to use some sort of spreadsheet program and he kept getting error messages. "Well, Jesus Christ!" He swore at the monitor, hands flying off the keyboard in irritation, his frown deepening, "...I've tried everything...and I keep getting this fucking-" he suddenly pushed the laptop off of his knees, "Forget it," and in one swift motion, he reached up and pulled Beatrix down, replacing her where the laptop had just been.

The innocent computer now sat on the next cushion, still open and still displaying an error message. But, Bill's interest was long gone from his technical difficulties. He held Beatrix close, giving her a quick kiss on the neck, "I can think of other things I'd rather be paying attention to," he said suggestively and with quite a bit of purposeful drama. He smiled up at her, eyes shining with affection, "Did you rip out any throats?" he quarried with a sly grin.

Beatrix had to admit she much preferred Bill's lap to the arm of the couch. A warm smile was plastered across her slightly weary features, the bags outlining the bottom of her eyes only due to the exertion of the day. Before answering Bill she turned her head and nonchalantly leaned over, outstretched an arm, and a single digit pressed a single button on the laptop on the apposing cushion and low-and-behold the error message switched off. Beatrix was never one for technology, but she knew a few minor things as her 'generation' seemed to be more computer literate.

With a satisfied grin mixing with that smile she retook her comfortable position against Bill. She hadn't done that to mock him...well...maybe just a little, but it was all in good fun. That and that fucking message was annoying her.

"No, baby," she began calmly with a touch of mellow-dramatics. "I did not have the bloody satisfaction of ripping out any throats today." Not saying that she wouldn't have liked to, nor that she couldn't do it, she just didn't see the use in doing it when there were countless other ways to kill off a person. "I stuck a cigar in someone's eye though." A devilish spark went off in blue eyes. "Hardly as sick as ripping out one's throat...but..." She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to trail off her sentence and let her head fall to rest on top of Bill's.

Bill stared past Beatrix at the now clear screened computer. He glanced up at her with a classic 'how the hell did you just do that?' expression. He'd been tinkering around with that fucking thing for over twenty minutes and she just had pressed one button...

He gave her a smirk as if to signify that she had indeed bested him on that account and leaned the side of his face against her shoulder as her head came to rest on top of his own. "Mm...cigar in the eye," he murmured after a moment, addressing her last comment, "...still rather twisted." Bill of course, in general...much preferred Beatrix's style of fighting to Elle's. Elle had a tendency to go to unnecessary lengths to make overly dramatic and bloody kills, when she just as easily could have done it much more efficiently and quickly. It was a risky way to operate. Beatrix on the other hand, was much more in his school of thought...get the job done well and if you have time to throw cool shit in great, but not a priority. Of course, Elle seemed to derive a good amount of truly sadistic pleasure in her bloody kills. Beatrix was far more traditional...not that she didn't enjoy what she did, but...as Bill knew, it was far different than the sort of pleasure Elle derived.

Bill stayed silent for a few moments, enjoying being like this...his face nuzzled up against her collarbone, eyes shut. Lately, she seemed to have this calming effect on him, better than any drug he'd ever taken. At times like this, he almost forgot what it was like to be completely irate and angry...almost. Before, he could always count on himself to be calm in middle of the storm, now...at least for the moment, he'd seemed to have passed that task onto Beatrix. He knew he was more than capable of retaining his old ways, but he much preferred to have to rely on her. It sounded odd, wanting to rely on somebody else...but when you had had to rely on yourself for so long...the newfound prospect of comfort was one that he was quite willing to open up to.

"You look tired," he finally spoke up, eyes still partially closed, the faint sound of her steady heartbeat against his cheek.

"I've been tired this whole week," she admitted gently. She elaborated, but not by much, "With Paris, training, and getting back into the swing of things on top of not having a solid eight hours of sleep I've been tired."

Her eyelids dropped an inch over blue eyes. Beatrix was just as open to comfort as Bill was. He knew that she found the sense of comfort, especially with him, to be a forbidden pleasure that only he was allowed to see. In a way being comfortable put one at a vulnerable state. They were docile, less aware, and tranquil in those moments of comfort were if someone was to attack or be attacked it would be much harder to come out of that comfortable state.

She idly settled a hand on top of his. "I may crash here tonight," she stated abruptly and somewhat off topic, not that he gave a fuck.

"You can crash here anytime you want Kiddo...you know that." Bill replied, lifting his head up slightly to look up at her. Of course, like hell she needed a verbal invitation, it was a well known mutuality between them that she was welcome at his home at anytime. Indeed, Bill wished she'd stay all the time...but that was just him being selfish and needy and he knew it.

He set his head back down for a moment. He could perfectly understand why she was tired. There had been very little downtime from their Paris trip to the normal barrage of assignments and it was bound to take its toll on even the most hardy of killers.

He picked up his hand and examined her hand, which had been laying over his own. "I could use some help packing," he spoke up, eyes still fixated on their hands, "How does hanging around here with an old bastard and helping him pack up his back room of stupid sentimental items sound to you?" He smirked, looking up at her again, "I know that must be what every young woman wishes for her spare time."

"You know," she took her hand back from him. She never could understand what he found so fucking fascinating about her hands. They were just hands, her hands, killer hands, but whatever made him happy or at least content. She continued in an obviously mocking tone of voice, "I was hoping you'd ask me to help you pack up that room."

There was some truth to that in the manner in which she wanted to see it again. Bea wanted a last look at it before it was packed up. It wasn't as though she'd never see it again she just felt she needed that faint reminder that Bill wasn't just…Bill but something more; that more that she feel in love with. Blue eyes set off a faint flicker of emotion as she slipped from his lap and stood to her feet.

She turned to him her lips partially parted as if to speak and then her façade turned hard. Arms methodically moved to cross over her chest and she blinked, that façade softening up in seconds after hardening. Her lips curled into a tight smile as she stated, "But first I need coffee, or you may find me snoring over a card board box within the hour."

Bill stood, giving her a smirk, "No...Kiddo...I do not want that," he brushed past her, "You and your damn coffee..." he chided her teasingly as he made his way into the kitchen. The kitchen was in basically the same state as before...impeccable and clean. But, there was a few smaller boxes lying out. The staple coffee machine was in its usual place with its pot of halfway empty hot coffee. Bill pulled a mug out from the upper cabinet. The blue-ish/white mug was decorated in a Japanese scroll design, with a trio of somber looking geishas on it. He poured the coffee for her, without even thinking that she was perfectly capable of pouring her own coffee and retrieved milk from the refrigerator and a pile of sugar packets from a small side drawer. He at least let her do her own milk and sugar. While she was doing that, Bill made himself some tea...that weird sort of tea that Beatrix seemed to hate and that smelled just a little odd...like dirt or tree bark.

Drinks in hand, the two killers then made their way down the hallway into Bill's bedroom. Bill retrieved the door key from the set in his pocket and opened the door to the back room. He flipped on that somewhat outdated 70's looking colored glass light fixture, revealing the same amount of weird sentimental treasures that Beatrix had seen that time before.

Things had been shifted around a little from before, but it was basically unchanged. Bill had brought in a few large cardboard boxes and a good amount of packing material, which was lying in a neat stack by the large leather recliner in the corner. All of his file cabinets were open and there were stacks of folders in neat piles on the large desk. The most interesting change, was that the large black safe was open...which revealed some rather eyebrow raising items, including: even more guns, a rack of vials of different colored liquids, a few large bottles of neatly marked equally questionable looking liquids, a number of baggies of what were obviously different drugs, two very large bundles of tightly wrapped marijuana, multiple bound up folders, a handful of knives, undeveloped film, some computer discs and some undistinguishable items. Amidst it all...more stacks of hundred dollar bills than most people saw in their lives served as 'filler'. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly your typical man's menagerie of items.

Bill walked past it, as if it was nothing and began stacking some black leather folders, more out of something to do with his hands then out of real purpose, "I think...," he scanned the room, "...maybe we should start with the walls...and maybe the book shelf ….and then move on from there..."

Beatrix acted as if she hadn't heard him as she sauntered over (putting her coffee mug down on the desk) to the open safe. The curious blonde came down to eye level with the contents inside, supporting herself on bent knees and the balls of her feet, and hands were busy fishing around. She did hear Bill's distinct ruffle of papers that clearly wasn't just for the sake of ruffling around papers.

She snapped out of it, momentarily, "Aye…the walls should go first," her words distant as she her attention wasn't focused on his earlier suggestion. But, she didn't make a move to the wall but stayed at the safe. Long fingers began to pluck up various items to inspect. She first looked at the array of guns which weren't anything extravagant in the means of fire arms. What did catch her interest were the vials with the different colored liquids. A few of the liquids were labeled with pieces of tape that had Sharpie scribbled words on it.

Beatrix took out a vial of a prominent green liquid. It reminded her of a mad scientist. Her slender brows furrowed as she tilted her head to the side to read the sideways piece of tape. "Poison," that wasn't what the label read, it was smudged but she had the main idea. She gingerly set the vial back down and muttered to herself, but loud enough Bill could over hear, "Of course you have to have something lying around that can get the job done quick and easy. It could be seen as cheating…." She trailed off as her attention moved on.

"The Blues," she read aloud as she held a small zip lock bag of a baby blue powder obviously a type of coke. She smirked. "Creative." The last thing she cared to 'inspect' was another vial of a clear liquid. Beatrix tilted the label. "The Undisputed Truth," she read efficiently in her head. There was something further scribbled on the bottom of the tape in capital letters. "NEEDS WORK." She put it away and came to her full height. "Quite the scientist, huh Bill?"

"I'm fond of alchemy...yes," he replied, watching Beatrix closely, shuffling another handful of papers. He admitted he was just a tad uncomfortable with her looking at the contents of his safe. But, he had to remind himself...which didn't take much, that he had to let it go. He'd first shown her this room, because he wanted to...because he knew he could trust her...and the contents of that safe were just as much a part of this room as the rest of it. It was a difficult task, but...he'd gotten this far, he couldn't pull back now.

Bill's flair for alchemy was one of those somewhat 'hush' hush' topics with those around him, much like his yakuza years. They all knew it was true, but he never quite revealed enough to most of them to fully prove it. Where and when Bill had learned alchemy was a mystery, but he tended to use it only on rare occasions and on those of great significance to himself. To him, it was a subtle and almost always ironic bit of murderous science...and he loved those aspects about it. One could get bored with shooting and stabbing people rather quickly, but alchemy...you could spend your whole life...tweaking that certain substance for just the right desired effects. It was highly difficult but the rewards were almost always worth the toil. After all, Bill...while sadistic, saw the beauty in just that right death...be it quick, merciless, horribly painful, or smirkingly ironic...and alchemy served his whims perfectly.

He gave Beatrix a long look, "It has its purposes," he said shortly and rather vaguely. With that, he restacked the papers he was fiddling with and turned towards the wall, as if to let that subject drop. "Alright...I'll start at this end...you take the other. I don't care so much what goes in what box with what...just make sure everything is packed well." He knew Beatrix was more than thorough and careful; he didn't have to reinstate that.

With that, they began at their opposite ends, methodically removing things off the wall and packing them away. Bill found he was moving rather slowly, since every item or picture he took down, seemed to require he take a few minutes to examine and reminisce with. Right as they started, he had put on some music at a low volume...Van Morrison to be exact. When he got to a weapon along the wall, he'd take it down with ease and set it aside in a 'weapons pile' to be packed with greater care later on.

He found he was rather enjoying taking his time with things, every few minutes; he'd glance over at Beatrix with a warm smile...who so far, was doing a very good job.

Beatrix made sure she did no less then 'good' when packing away all of Bill's sentimental items. She knew if there was one break, crack, or falter in the process of storing that the item wouldn't be the only thing broken, and that wasn't a fact she planned to justify. As she gingerly removed a picture from the wall she stared at the photograph, taking in the background, scenery, and people before she wrapped it up in bubble wrap and newspaper. On occasion she stole a glance over to Bill who looked immersed in staring at a photograph. She could easily recall taking trips down memory lane by viewing a photograph or item from that time. Most of the time the memory was ill but sometimes they were happy, in one form of the word.

The two killers finally met at the end of their saunter down the wall, packing away countless items. The last photograph Beatrix took off the wall was of Bill, of course, most of them were, but he appeared to be closer to Beatrix's age now. He was clad in classic 'Bill' attire just standing in the midst of a deserted lot somewhere in Mexico. He looked very stoic and she had to admit quite the looker. She had a tight smile on her face that only softened with each picture.

She leaned down and retrieved some bubble wrap from the collaboration on the floor. She wanted to say something but nothing fit so she continued to contently wrap up the photograph.

Since they were standing nearly side by side now, as they packed, Bill easily caught Beatrix's look as she inspected the picture she was now packing with great care. He gave her a sideways smirk, "I know it's somewhat hard to fathom, but yes...I used to be a rather handsome bastard." He turned an eye down to glance again at the picture as Beatrix wrapped it in bubble wrap. "That was taken in Acuna...right after Budd was born...somewhere around here is a picture of me in that same shirt holding him." He chuckled, "I don't think I was very happy at the time..."

He pulled down a set of guns that were hanging a little higher up on the wall. One six shooter in each hand, he turned towards Beatrix, twirling them around with extremely scary skill. He seemed to just have done it unconsciously, "Hrm, too bad you weren't alive back then Kiddo...," he pondered casually, guns still twirling, head tilted to one side as he gazed slyly at her, "...we would have made one hell of couple, as good looking as we were deadly," he chuckled, but it slowly died into a frown and in turn he halted the motion of the guns. No, he didn't really wish that...if she had met him back then, she would have hated him, despised him….would be more like it. And he would have probably treated her extremely badly and that would have been that. It was only now he felt he deserved a woman like Beatrix.

"Eh," he waved a hand, as he set down the guns in the weapons pile, "...I doubt your mother was even born when that picture was taken." But, that thought did make him genuinely laugh and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, still laughing, "Ok..." he chuckled, "...let's attack that book shelf now…."

Beatrix gave him a classic look as they walked across the room to the array of bookshelves. That snippet of words was begging Beatrix to give a smart ass remark. She could either comment on the age part or the couple part. The age held more potency but seeing the last time she chided Bill about his age it didn't go over well. So, she went to her next option. Of course she could have left it well alone but that wouldn't be Beatrix Kiddo, now would it?

She nonchalantly left Bill's side and moved to the end of the book shelf to start on her half. She began plucking out books, giving them a brief look over, and stacked them in a cardboard box at her feet. "I think we make a hell of a couple…now," she began in a cool toned voice, her attention taken to the task at hand. If they were a couple back 'then', hypothetically speaking, since she would need to be alive, she most likely wouldn't have fallen for Bill in the manner she had now. Hell yes, he had been good looking but with years of experience he became the man she loved. And without that experience she most likely would have hated, loathed, and probably rivaled against him. But she did in some mannerisms; hate, loath, and rival against Bill, now, subconsciously.

She dropped a book into the growing stack in the cardboard box, a faint cloud of dust rose as the book dropped, which only showed how much attention Bill gave to some of his books. Not that she cared, she just noticed. She added lightly, "Being the deadliest couple in the world is much more enticing then the best looking couple in the world."

Bill had gone around to the other side of the shelves and was stacking and packing away the books in much the same manner as Beatrix. He glanced up at her comments, a characteristic half smile on his face, "Yes, we do make one hell of a couple," he chuckled, eyes twinkling at her, "Agreed," he said, setting aside another pile of books, "...looks fade...being deadly is far more interesting." He meant that too, he wasn't just being catty.

He fell silent for a few moments, sorting and stacking books. Some of them were definitely on the dusty side and he realized how long it had been since he'd read a number of them. Bill liked to read, but didn't consider himself much of literary intellectual. As a kid, he did most of his reading through comic books...much to the horror of Estiban.

Which reminded him...

He looked up at Beatrix, "Wanna see something cool Kiddo?" He grinned, not even waiting for her response, and headed back over to his open safe. He rummaged around the contents of money, drugs and firearms until he came out with a thin sheet of transparent plastic. He brought it back over to her, almost cradling it like a newborn child.

"Not that you really give a rat's ass...," he smirked at her, carefully placing the plastic casing on the book shelf in front of her, "...but...you see before you...Superman, issue number one..." He looked lovingly down at the comic, which was tightly protected in the case, "This is worth...," he paused in thought, "...well I haven't checked in a few years...but far more than that amount of cash I have in that safe...that's for sure."

Bill wasn't one for prized possessions. Sure, he liked his flutes and his guns and such...but he could give them all up quite easily if needed. But, if he did have one prized possession, it was the comic sitting in front of him. He smiled down at the comic, a hand tracing over the plastic. It was silly really. But, he couldn't help but feel a strong nostalgic pull when he looked at that faded cover. "When I was a kid...there was nobody cooler than Superman..." He pulled his gaze back up to Beatrix, smiling at her fondly. This comic was his prized possession, and she...well, she was his favorite person. He felt extremely good being in the presence of both simultaneously.

After a moment, Bill laughed, at himself. "Hah, caught me in a moment there...sorry...Where were we?"

"Well, I just learned that I have to compete against a comic book hero to gain your affection," the tall blonde noted in high amusement. But she had to admit that it was pretty cool that Bill had a first edition of the first Superman comic. She was no comic book geek or reader but she had her 'normal' knowledge of super heroes. What they were all about, the comics, the mythology, and she was well aware of the rarity of that comic.

Beatrix then turned back to the shelf and reached up to take down the remainder of the books. This took a good thirty minutes before the book shelves on each wall were completely and safely packed away. Dust and dirt had accumulated under her nails and smudges of dirt formed on her ivory soaked skin. Not that she gave a damn but it only proved that they had been working hard at packing things up.

She was willing to pack up a few more things but her legs felt like jelly. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her face and then dropped them to her sides, focusing warm blue eyes on Bill. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she had stopped. So, the tall worn blonde idly sauntered up behind him and wrapped arms around him, leaning her chin on his shoulder. "Bill," she cooed gently. "Let's go to bed."

Bill turned his head with a raised an eyebrow and a smile over his shoulder. As if he needed an ounce of convincing when she spoke those words.

The corner of his mouth turned up, "I don't know Kiddo...you look pretty dirty to me...," he brought a hand up and gently wiped it across her cheek, pulling away a small smudge on his fingertip. "Look at that...," his smile widened, "...I'm not sure if I can allow you in my bed in that current state..." he teased her, obviously meaning anything but that. Bill obviously couldn't see himself, because he had a large smudge of dirt on the side of his face and it was difficult to tell if the smudge on his finger actually came from Beatrix's skin or was already there, seeing the state of his own hands.

She gave him a look, slipped from his shoulders, and came face to face with him. Her slender eye brows crossed to inspect him and her pretty blonde head canted down. "You aren't exactly Mister Clean yourself," she noted as she spotted the dirt smudges on his face. She did have plans to go wash her face and change into a pajama set before heading to bed and she was sure Bill knew that, he was just fucking with her.

Her chin came back up, and with every intent on fucking with him back she raised her thumb to her lips, licked the surface, and then nonchalantly and abruptly put it against his cheek, where the dirt smudge was. Beatrix then began to use her dampened digit to clear away the dirt on his face and she didn't do this in a gingerly manner. This could have been thought of as revolting but they kissed…a lot. Like Bill gave a shit that she was washing his face with saliva. She vaguely recalled a distant relative doing something similar to her and a flicker of maternity sparked in blue eyes during this action.

Bill's expression was frozen in the midst of revolution and amusement, not because she was using her own saliva, but because what she was doing was so like what mothers did to their messy obnoxious children in middle of grocery stores. He didn't miss that maternal flicker in her eyes either...he'd seen it show up a number of times, but never...ever in such a case as this.

Finished she dropped her hand to her side with an efficient smile of satisfaction on her face. "There, all spic and span. Now you can go get in bed and I will use 'water' to wash my face."

"Well, do you want me to throw some toys around and throw a tantrum now?" He quipped, giving in to a smile that he'd been holding back the entire time she'd been performing her little 'mommy cleaning act' on him.

He chuckled, stepping away from her and flicking off the lights as they exited the room. He then locked the door behind them. While Beatrix went into the adjoining bathroom, Bill snuck into the kitchen and washed his face anyways…..not that he didn't mind Beatrix's spit on him...in some form or another, but he just couldn't help himself.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, ready for bed, he'd changed. Turning to her, now wearing a typical set of Bill-like oriental styled grey pajamas, he gave her a sly look, "I'm sorry baby, I couldn't find my fuzzy baby blue booty footed pj's with the trains and cowboys on them..."

Beatrix threw up her hands and brought them back down with a slap to her thighs trying to over dramatize her disappointment. "Damn," she muttered and walked over to the side of the bed. She had on a pair of classic gray sweat pants and one of Bill's 'hand me down' t-shirts and blonde locks were down over her shoulders. Her face was clean giving off a faint glow of just being washed thoroughly with soap and water. "We'll just have to go to the store tomorrow and buy you a new pair."

The second Bill joined her under the confines of the covers; she pushed the side of her body against his and tilted her head to cradle against his shoulder. She was too tired to 'do' anything, that and she wasn't in the right state of mind. But, cuddling like this, close to one another in a very blissful state had just as many pleasant sensations as anything close to sex. Bea had dawned briefly on Bill's subtle remarks about children and she could only imagine a five year old Bill having temper tantrums in the middle of a busy street corner. The thought was amusing as it was unsettling. But she wasn't going to dawn on it long enough to make any real assumptions.

Bill brought an arm around, holding her even closer to him. He smiled gently at her tilted face and placed a brief kiss on that head of golden blonde. This seemed like an opportune moment for him to tell one of his stories, or offer some witty or wise remark...but he didn't. He didn't feel the need to muddle the air with his words. Everything was perfect...just like this.

He swiped some of his own hair out of his face, and in a much more gentle gesture, he slowly and lovingly brushed some stray locks of that blonde hair to one side. This was mainly so he could idly play with it as he was prone to do.

He closed his eyes, to better take in the small wonderful world around him. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear Beatrix's soft heartbeat along with the soft intake and exhale of breath. He could smell her, she smelt faintly like the soap he had stocked in the master bathroom and like herself...which was wonderful but really impossible to describe in words, but either way, he'd never forget it. Then there was her hair, which was soft and slightly damp in between his fingers. Through the thin silk of his clothing, he could detect the gradual curve of her body against his side as well as the soft press of her chest and the faint pressure of her leg against his own.

Bill's life had been pretty dark, violent as it was self serving...not bad by a long stretch, but it had not been frequently dotted with long blissful moments of softly breathing next to another person...and not just another person, but his favorite person...a person he was most certainly more in love with than any other person he'd ever so carelessly pinned that feeling on.

After those few long moments of taking in all of those sensations, Bill finally opened his eyes and lovingly settled his gaze on Beatrix's partially visible face.

Beatrix was contently lying there with lids partially hooded over blue hues. She was tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep; she was just tired, physically and mentally worn down from the transpired events of the week. She had gotten bored of her present position and idly rolled onto her side, her body facing him, and her head moved to settle against his chest then the crook of his shoulder. This was just as comfortable as she draped a single arm across him.

She loved being tranquil like this with him but that was a fact stated numerous times already. Sometimes Bea wondered what took her so long to get to this point with Bill. It had taken a hell of a lot of hard work and there were so many bumps along the way it was a miracle they had gotten anywhere. But it was well worth the effort and time and she wouldn't give it up. Well, not unless something 'more' came along but she couldn't think of anything better than Bill.

As Bill had wanted to, Beatrix wanted to fill the air with words but she was a loss for it so she shut up.

Content to just lie there and watch Beatrix, Bill continued to remain quiet, head tilted slightly to gaze at her, hand still tangled in her hair. Now that she was fully draped against him, he could really feel her heartbeat and the shape of her slender but muscular form. He took a moment to take all of that in, and then once again reopened his eyes.

It was hard for Bill to shut off his constant flow of thoughts for long, tactile sensations were wonderful, but his mind tended to take precedence eventually. It didn't take long for his thoughts to rest on his current task of moving. Thus far, things were going perfectly on schedule. He had been making good progress and Beatrix's help tonight with the back room had been a major boost. They had got most of the small things packed up, leaving only the large furniture to be moved. The back room was still usable, but when it came time to actually move...it was pretty much good to go...just like Bill liked it.

His attention slowly became focused on the adobe colored ceiling above him, as he continued to go over itineraries and timetables in his mind. There was still the matter of making moving arrangements for his huge storage garage of cars...that was going to be a pain in the ass. Sadly, the garden had to stay...he was going to miss it like hell. And the shed behind it, that wouldn't take too long to pack up. He mentally pictured the small wooded shed, going over the amount of equipment inside. It had been awhile since he'd actually been in there. The last time he was...

Suddenly, Bill started laughing, in that subtle manner of his. It was a good natured laugh, but there was a touch of forgotten irony in there as well. Oh yes, now he remembered the last time he'd been in that shed. He and Beatrix had had the row of their lives...how could he forget it? He tried to both kill her and fuck her within a few minutes...and not just once if he recalled correctly. It had been a very complicated encounter, and it would take him a few minutes to sort though it, once he got over the initial humor and shock of re-living it. "The shed...," he said in the midst of chuckling, his head tilting back down to look at her. When she stared up at him a little quizzically, he specified, "The equipment shed...behind the courtyard….I was just thinking. Jesus," his lip twisted with amusement, "I'm surprised we both survived that..."

The blonde stared at him in utter bewilderment. When had he brought up the shack incident? And what the fuck made him bring it up to begin with? Here was a lovely tranquil moment and he had to bring up the most daunting, agonizing, hateful, and dramatic point in their relationship thus far. Perhaps that shack was what convinced her in that twisted and unsure way she had fallen in love with Bill, but still…

She shifted her position so her chin was propped on her arm that was draped over his chest. Blue eyes stared at him with an expression that clearly read; what the fuck are you talking about? But she did know and as annoyed as it made her that he had to bring it up now of all times, she had to keep in mind that he had laughed. He wasn't bringing it up in bad humor but in good humor, so she was going to bring it up in good humor as well.

"Oh, yes, the shed," she speculated quietly her voice leveled. "That was quite a scene…and we did survive as we have survived other events in our lives just as…eventful." She pursed her lips in momentary thought. "But, behold the results of a night were we did indeed try to…not kill…but morally and harmfully wound one another."

"We are the most cruel to the ones we love the most, and for all the pain we cause...we can only attempt to reap it with more love," Bill replied, in almost near duplication of his words to her that night in the backyard...another memory, more fond, but less influential than the whole...shack ordeal.

He shifted a little bit, his hand moving to rest behind his head. He fixed Beatrix with a serious but thoughtful look. He took a moment to speak, obviously really thinking over the words he was planning on saying, "I was so angry with you," he said quietly but with complete and characteristic calmness...as if she didn't know that already, "And that whole...shit with the killed client...," he paused, "...it was just an excuse. In retrospect, I wasn't really that angry with you about that. I was angry with you...because you said you didn't love me, because I couldn't find it in me to really say what I wanted to. I did later on...of course...but I'm afraid those words were tainted with my previous and...post actions. I handled that whole thing quite poorly." Another 'duh' statement, but another rare admittance of a mistake from Bill.

He smiled, again, signifying the topic was no longer a hostile one, "But, your right...behold the results of those vile things we did and said to one another." If Bill only knew the real weight of that statement and the description it played and would play on his entire life.

"I'm just thankful," he began again, in a kinder tone, "That you are who you are...you somehow past all of that..."

Thus far, he'd turned things to be more his fault than hers...because, in his mind, they really were. Another strange but refreshing, Bill-ism...in those rare occurrences when he really, really fucked up, he was more than willing to take the blame.

Bill was willing to admit that he was wrong and she admired that. It was rare that Bill admitted when he was wrong or did something that was very irrational. And he thought she was irrational at times, hah. But, other then that, he had in a very subtle and Bill-manner told her he was sorry. It was hard to pick out within the long monologue-type confession but she found it and it made her less annoyed with the entire topic.

Beatrix knew even before Bill told her now that, in the shack, he wasn't just upset about the botched assignment but he was upset about other things that she had been unclear about until now. Any normal person would out rightly tell a person that they loved them but Bill had to express it with hostile fighting and sharp words that held even sharper points. There was the occasional abusive-love that some couples used to express themselves but Bill and Beatrix went beyond that.

She shifted her chin ever so slightly to gain a better position and her eyes moved away from him. They were still tranquil but held something deeper. She promised herself to keep this topic in good humor with a touch of weightiness. "You should be so lucky to have a woman like me that is willing to put such a thing behind them," she commented slowly. Her lips pursed again and she blinked hard. "You…we….said a lot of hurtful things that night. And…it was all true." She hated the truth and she was starting to wander into dangerous territory. It was best to quickly walk away from that path.

"I'm very lucky," Bill responded quickly to her comment, but with the utmost sincerity, "I won't deny that." He continued to watch her with a serious expression as she continued.

Bea turned her blue eyes to him. "You did what you had to do to get certain feelings out but…I never thought you'd say…or do those things to me…to make it clear." Her eyes turned back away and she bent her head a little to the side thoughtfully.

He frowned slightly at Beatrix's brief endeavor into the forbidden subject of..."the truth." Bill wasn't sure he wanted to go there either...it only proved to upset him and he didn't want that. He knew that there were major truth issues between the two of them, most of them resulting in Beatrix's often complete inability to tell the truth and his tendency to often vaguely explain himself, or at the very least, wrap them up in confusing monologues or random metaphors. When it came down to it, he simply didn't like explaining himself to anybody. He never had before and it was not exactly the easiest habit to break. Then again, that wasn't a very good justification.

"I believe we both are aware of those truths we spoke that day," he replied, trying to stick more to the actual truths and not the general concept of truth...which was far more dangerous. He knew that a number of the things he'd said to Beatrix were dead on truths, and he knew that she knew exactly which ones those were. He only hoped she could face them when it came down to it.

But her last comment really caught his interest and Bill halted any further replies until he took a few long moments to think about what she said and supply the best answer. He pursed his lips, fixing her with an intense look, "I'm sorry Kiddo...but I'm afraid you were mistaken," again he paused, brown eyes flashing, "You knew what you were getting into from the first moment you kissed me, at the very least...from the first moment you got into this bed." He tilted his said to the side, "Did you really think what I did was all that surprising? I mean..." a brash grin spread across his face, "...baby...I ain't exactly the boy next door." The grin melted into a more typical Bill smile, which was almost always just a centimeter away from a smirk, "I'm a killer, a bastard...I'm all of those things I've told you...I can't be anything else. And being those things...," he raised a hand, as if searching for the right words, "...what more can you expect from me?"

He, like Beatrix, was still trying to keep this on 'friendly' territory the entire time. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight...because a fight between the two of them was like sex between the two of them...it was never very placid nor easy to recover from.

Beatrix rolled away from him and came to lie on her back, hands folded over her stomach. This wasn't a gesture indicating she didn't want to be near him anymore, if she did she would have rolled so her back was facing him and the side of her body wasn't at such a close proximity. In all truth, and Bill had put a lot of truth in his last bit of words, she didn't expect anything from him or not much.

She was well aware of what she was getting into the second she kissed him and even farther more when she got into bed with him. She was no stranger to the consequences but perhaps a stranger to Bill and that she didn't know him, not how she wanted. Beatrix recalled, ironically, speaking to Elle and how Bea was positive she knew more about Bill than her blonde counter part. She hadn't expected Bill to 'overreact' those months back in the shed. That had been completely spontaneous and unexpected. If she knew him better she would have expected it and it wouldn't have been such a surprise. Although, in later years she'd come to the bitter conclusion that she very much didn't know Bill, and how he reacted to certain things…..and that hurt her.

But, this whole conversation that they were trying to keep on friendly terms was becoming too weighty for the blonde. The day had been 'good' or at least it was good once she returned from the assignment and she wanted to keep that 'good' feeling as long as possible, and with this conversation it wasn't staying that way. Beatrix also felt uncertain waves of emotion that she wanted to keep down. Her lips pursed tightly and that wave of emotion dissolved in the blink of an eye. "We should go to sleep…"

Bill remained silent for a moment longer, head slightly turned towards her, eyes heavily hooded in thought. She was a little more distant that before, not mad...no...but he knew his words didn't completely settle with her. He wasn't going to apologize for that...just as much as he wasn't going to apologize for who and what he was. Beatrix was a big girl; she could handle herself just fine. She could handle him...and that was saying a lot.

Well, and yes...perhaps...there were things about him she didn't fully comprehend and sides of him she'd not seen quite as much of as others. She knew he could be a cold bastard, but she'd seen far less of that than man any other people. Hell, she wouldn't be lying next to him if she'd seen that side of him as much as other people...she wouldn't have wanted a damn thing to do with him. But, as said before...Bill was a person with a number of very different sides, and pity to the person who saw a little too much of the wrong one.

He pulled himself out of that revere, "Yes, we should..." he agreed with her suggestion of going to sleep. It was best to end this conversation before it entered darker territory and when he really thought about it, he was pretty goddamn tired.

That being decided, Bill rolled over and switched off the switch for the overhead light, which was conveniently just behind the nightstand.

"Goodnight Kiddo," he said softly at her side. Soon Bill's mind started to whirl again, but this time around...sleep turned out to be the victor.


	26. Eggs And

"Goddamnit," Beatrix groaned as she shifted beneath the confides of the covers. She had just awoken to an unpleasant face…Budd's. She quickly pulled the covers up over her own face.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," the cowboy chimed in a jubilant tone of voice. He was standing near the side of the bed, thumbs looped in his jean pockets, wearing a light blue t-shirt, and a smashing pair of cowboy boots.

Beatrix thrust down the covers and peered over to him with a 'what the fuck' expression plastered on her groggy features. "Where'd you learn that?" She inclined curiously.

He shrugged his shoulders and shifted from one foot to the other. "Made it up myself," his voice was still holding the jubilant spark. "Ya like it?"

"No," she replied flatly and sat up, locks of blonde hair falling into place in a disheveled manner. The look in those glossy blue eyes only exaggerated her hatred for Budd's made up morning rhyme. He didn't seem to give a damn.

"It'll grow on ya," and he left it at that.

Beatrix casually and somewhat mechanically began to force herself out of bed. Her legs swung over the side and she sat there trying to collect herself. Luckily she had slept in her pajamas, which was probably the only reason Bill let his brother into the bedroom. Speaking of Bill. She turned her head. "Where's your brother?"

"Out on the patio making some phone calls. He told me to check on sleeping beauty and to make sure you hadn't keeled over."

"How sweet of you."

"I'm all about the sweetness, sista," Budd said and puffed his chest out in a manly manner which really didn't work for him. Beatrix raised a slender brow and got to her feet. "You can tell him I'm alive and…hungry."

"Right away, your royal pain in the ass," he took a step to the door.

Beatrix shot him a look. "No, you can't watch. Get the hell out of here, Budd," she shooed him away with a hand gesture and Budd dismissed himself with a small pout of the lip to report to Bill.

The two brothers were both out on the patio when Beatrix emerged from getting dressed. It was still rather amazing that Bill and Budd were related, even along the material side...they both held themselves completely differently, spoke differently, looked differently and when it came down to it, acted quite differently. But, it still remained that they were brothers...even if Budd could easily have been Bill's son...and often was treated as such, in a very subconscious manner.

Both in their very different stances, they turned from their conversation as Beatrix approached, the two sets of brown eyes settling on her...with very, very different attitudes. Budd was leaning against one of the pillars that supported the stylish partial covering on the patio, smoking. Bill was standing a few feet away, black leather cowboy boots planted firmly on the deck, cell phone clasped in one ringed hand, the other settled confidently in his pocket.

"I hear that not only are you living...but your hungry," Bill quipped, squinting at her fondly in the morning sun. "Hrm, well...lucky for you Kiddo, I'm not in the mood to cook anything," he smirked, sauntering towards her, "And even more lucky for you," he continued, still gazing at her fondly as he halted close to her, "...you get to have breakfast with the two coolest brothers this side of the Mississippi." He pivoted a little to glance over his shoulder at Budd, "Isn't that right Budd?"

Budd opened his mouth.

Without even waiting for Budd's reply, Bill turned back to Beatrix, "There's a good breakfast place just a few minutes away, on the border...you'll like it," he prompted her with a tilt of the head, "Lots of that deep fried egg stuff you adore." He rubbed her shoulder affectionately, giving her a quick kiss...the type that was generally acceptable in front of siblings. "You look great...," he said in a lower and more personal tone...further softened with a smile, but then he quickly glanced over his shoulder again, "Hurry it up Budd, you don't want to see Beatrix when she gets too hungry...she's truly frightening." He smirked again, turning back to her with a wink.

Budd grumbled through his cigarette and shuffled over to the ashtray and put it out before shuffling after the 'couple'. And speaking of couples Budd made a quick remark on just that as they piled into one of Bill's luxurious cars, they sure as hell weren't taking Budd's truck and Beatrix didn't come with a car. "Don't you too go fucking PDA on me in the restaurant…or anywhere else for that matter," he threatened in a low but effective tone.

The tall blonde craned her neck to the back seat from her spot in the front. "Oh, there goes my idea of trying hot sex in a moving vehicle." Her lower lip stuck out in a make shift pout that only looked pathetically cute and she turned back around. She let a hand settle on Bill's thigh. "Sorry, baby," she apologized gently, her blue eyes flashing.

Bill instantly turned to look at Beatrix...the two phrases 'hot sex' and 'moving vehicle' in conjunction catching his full attention. His eyebrows rose fractionally over the rims of his sunglasses and the classic smirk appeared.

Then suddenly, with well practiced skill, using a combination of both the normal and emergency brake, he stopped the car dead in the middle of the highway in less then three seconds. It was a surprisingly smooth maneuver and obviously best done on the often deserted highways that stretched across these parts of Mexico.

Bill turned around in his seat...the leather creaking and sneered at his brother, "Ah, I've changed my mind Budd...Beatrix and I will drive...and you can walk...or you might be able to hitch a ride...then again," a shrug, "most likely not."

Budd's reply was only an irritated grunt, seeing as he was rather used to his brother's antics. By his expression and posture he looked as if only wild horses were going to drag him out of the car.

"No?" Bill prompted with dramatic tilt of his head.

"No," came Budd's blunt reply.

With a dramatic sigh, Bill turned back to the steering wheel, "Very well," he looked at Beatrix slyly, who was only giving him another one of her amazingly cute pouty faces...which, he had to admit, was really quite pathetically adorable.

Laying on the dramatic reluctance, he restarted the car and they continued on. But after only a few moments of silence, he spoke up, "Ya know...that is quite possible...hot sex in a moving vehicle."

This resulted in another loud and disgusted groan from Budd and glancing at

Beatrix again, Bill started laughing.

It was in the somewhat sickly twisted humored mood that they arrived at the restaurant. It was fairly crowded with a mostly local crowd. Nobody took much notice of them, as they were seated at a small booth sitting under a large mural painting of the Virgin Mary done in very Spanish pinks and greens. The place was far from high class, but it had its own charm in that 'breakfast joint' sort of way. Cowboy hats adorned many of those sitting around the bar seating, where most were turned to watch the small television hanging in the corner. Their waitress was a young Mexican woman named

Maria, who didn't look old enough to be working. She handed them their menus and left them to decide.

Seated next to Beatrix, Bill was still smirking over the whole car thing and only glanced over the menu quickly before murmuring in Beatrix's ear, "Budd of all people should not be giving us shit about PDA's...I could tell you some PDA stories about him that would make you lose your appetite."

Beatrix side glanced to Bill with an expression that clearly read; 'you can save it for later…or never.' She was just about to eat and it was rare that she ever went out for a real breakfast and she didn't want to lose her appetite. Besides, she never was really going to have hot sex in a moving vehicle with Bill. As exciting and pleasurably enticing as it sounded considering the driver and the sex in general, Bea wasn't sure how safe she'd feel.

She then casually turned back to her menu in a placid demeanor and skimmed over the contents. Sparkling blue eyes gazed over the rim of her menu to Budd. She dropped the menu down to settle open on the table top. "I am going to get the…" Slender brows furrowed in further decision making. "Eggs, scrambled soft with a side of bacon." It was hard to miss the grin that measured the state of Mexico that came over Budd's face. "And a vanilla shake."

Budd looked up at her questionably. "Their shakes are five fucking dollars."

"And?" She closed the menu. Budd let it go, for now, and closed his menu coming to a final decision of what to order.

Bill hoped that Beatrix knew he'd been completely playing up the hot sex in the car thing...he not only valued the exterior of his car but the interior too much to take that dangerous if not somewhat tantalizing prospect seriously enough to actually do it. Talk about unsafe sex; not that it wasn't a pretty damn cool thought.

"Five dollar shakes?" Bill gaped at the menu, "Jesus fucking Christ," he lowered his voice, spotting two kids sitting in the booth next to them, "I remember when shakes were a quarter," he hissed, but quickly smirked after spotting the look on both Budd and Beatrix's faces, "Don't even say it...just…..don't." He sat back grumpily; well aware he'd just completely dated himself.

"Well, I hope that shake is the best damn shake you've ever had Kiddo," he said to her with a raised eyebrow, "And of course you are doing to give me a sip...or two..." Bill's menu was set aside; apparently he'd already made up his mind.

Within a few minutes Maria returned and everyone placed their orders, Bill...of course, gave his in Spanish. He always capitalized on any situation where could speak anything but English and Maria obviously wasn't a fluent English speaker.

And of course, he couldn't help but bring up the shakes. "Cinco dolar's?" He looked at her in exasperation, "Porqué?"

Maria just shrugged, "Ellos es bueno..." she chewed on the end her pen, far from caring about some old white guy who could speak Spanish getting mad about the expensive shakes.

"There's good...heh..," Bill sneered, giving her a look, "Please….que es ridiculo..."

Maria shrugged again, "Afligido.." she mumbled and walked away from the table.

Realizing that thus far, he was sounding like a real cranky old bastard, Bill gave it up with a shrug of his own. "I still want a sip," he added after a moment, pushing his shoulder playfully into Beatrix's.

Of course Beatrix had to playfully and in slight irritation push back into him. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she began to slouch back comfortably in her chair.

"Were you," Budd pursed his lips. "Bargain' with that girl 'bout that shake?" At Bill's reassuring nod Budd let out a low whistle. Why Bill had to bargain over the cost of some fucking shake when he could buy twenty of that five dollar shake without putting a dent in his wallet was beyond Budd.

The air within the restaurant was beginning to swelter and the tall blonde found it her priority and best interest to cool it down. "Budd," she casually leaned forward, her still folded arms settled on the table top. "What have you been up to lately?" It was friendly conversation to move into friendly territory.

Budd didn't seem too surprised by Beatrix's question and was amiable to answer her. "The usual, ya know. Doin' stuff for Bill, going to the local bars, sight seeing…"

The blonde cut in curiously, "Sight seeing?"

Budd nodded. "Mmhmm…..in Texas."

The blonde raised a brow. "What the fuck is there to see in Texas?"

"Friend a mine knows the local bars 'round there…and he's been hooking me up with some of them," the cowboy explained trying to keep a calm placement about it.

Beatrix gave a slow nod. She wasn't sure what Budd was getting at but she could easily tell he was a tad uneasy on the subject, especially in front of Bill. She didn't want to go in depth on the present topic and decided to wing it around. She put on a tight smile; her gaze shifted to Bill, and added, "How about moving the squad out to Texas?"

Bill was watching his brother closely from across the table...watching him like a man who knew how to read people exceptionally well, most especially his own sibling. His expression remained neutral, but there was no missing the slight downturn of his mouth and the heightened intensity in his gaze as Budd rather vaguely revealed some sort of new information on himself. But, for the moment, Bill said nothing in reply to his brother's words...which generally meant he was still processing it and deciding what to do with it.

He turned to Beatrix, easily moving out of that mood and into another. "Texas?" he leaned back, arm wrapping around the back of the booth behind the tall blonde's shoulders, "It's not a bad choice," he offered. Of course, he'd already made up his mind on the DiVA's next locale, but he would certainly entertain the idea. "I can't really stand the big cities there though..." When it came down to it, Bill wasn't much of a big city person in any state nowadays...he liked his open spaces too much. "Houston and Austin are pretty shitty if you ask me, El Paso is alright...quant," he shrugged, "Not a bad suggestion Kiddo," he offered her a smile.

Bill's gaze flickered back to his brother for a brief moment. Budd had been labeled something of a moron by many of those around him, but Bill knew better...his brother was far smarter than he put on. And something was stewing underneath that shitkicking hat and laid back demeanor of Budd's...he just couldn't quite put his finger on it yet.

And Budd wouldn't miss his elder brother's look either, and Bill knew it. They had developed a long vocabulary of non-verbal communication over the years...like many siblings, but in their case it was even more highly developed. It was a vital thing to possess when one was in such a dangerous business as they were.

Bill knew Budd was up to some shit. He also knew Budd was sending some...mixed signals in his direction, and not exactly friendly ones.

This matter would have to be dealt with...but not in front of Beatrix.

Once again turning to the woman at his side, Bill eased back into his former mode. "It is true...what they say...the most dastardly bastard of bastard millionaires live in Texas."

"Oh?" Beatrix inquired with a raised brow.

"Yup," Budd added as he leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through a messy array of brown locks. "Bill's yet to make his claim there though."

At this moment before any more secretive bickering could move forward, the waitress, Maria approached with a tray of drinks. Water was distributed amongst the three, as was coffee for Budd and Bill, and of course, Beatrix's five dollar vanilla shake.

Lavishing in the idea of a five dollar shake the tall blonde wheeled it in and seeing it was her drink she was inclined to take the first sip. She casually wrapped her lips around the straw and took a gulp. "Mmm," she cooed, licking her lips for added dramatization of how fucking good that five dollar shake was. She slid it in Bill's direction. Budd didn't bother asking to try the shake. The last time he offered Beatrix something with his 'kooties' on it, aka the muffin, he resigned from sharing with the blonde ever again.

Bill only remained smirking at the Texas comment. Actually, he had lived in Texas for a short time many, many years ago...before the millionaire part but certainly after the dastardly bastard part. Then again, he'd lived in allot of different places throughout his life for a short time. He found Texas far more to his liking than many other states.

His attention was quickly diverted by the arrival of the drinks, most especially Beatrix's five dollar shake. He watched her with extreme intensity as she somewhat suggestively took a long sip from the straw.

He gave the tall blonde a sly look as she slid the beverage in his direction. Taking an equally long sip that was, thankfully, devoid of any of the feminine mannerisms that Beatrix had just so effectively delivered, he then sat back again the booth...a look of skeptical judgment on his face. "Goddamn," he said after a moment, a typical smile/smirk replacing the former skepticism, "...fuck...that's a good shake." He nodded at Beatrix, brows raised, giving her a look of approval. Bill didn't gush on about most things very often, and for him that was a pretty ecstatic reaction to something.

Of course, then he tried to make another grab for the glass, but Beatrix was quick to pull it away. Bill gave his brother a humored look, which was only partially returned.

At this maneuver Beatrix let long white fingers coil around her frosty glass. She felt recently that ever since Elle kidnapped her drink on the airplane, everyone was out to kidnap her drink, and so she had to protect it. She gave both men a predatory look but it was directed more so at Bill. "Get your own fucking shake," she muttered before taking another cleverly thorough and suggestive sip from the straw.

A light chuckle came from Budd's side of the table. "One thing 'bout women, Bill, never ever try to take their shakes, especially five dollar ones. They can turn vicious," he pointed out and came back to a humorous, well-natured moron that held no dark secrets.

The tall blonde nodded as she swallowed the liquid in her mouth and sat back. "They sure can," she paused. "You should listen to your brother's advice more often."

Bill waved a dismissive hand, laughing bitterly. "I have no reason to listen to Budd's advice Kiddo." It was amazing how easily Bill could dish out potential hurtful remarks right in the presence of that who he was insulting. "I never have really...I mean Budd," he chuckled, leaning against the table. "I wouldn't exactly be taking women advice from you of all people. If I recall correctly the last girl you had...I mean one that you didn't just drunkenly sleep with one night, stuck around for two weeks before taking off with one of your trucks and five hundred bucks in cash."

He leaned back, smirking, "And that was two years ago."

Bill, of course was well aware of the sorts of things he said to Budd. There was a fine line between fraternal teasing and more sinister intentions...and Bill often crossed it. He raised his brows at his brother, in an almost taunting look.

But before anything else could be said, Maria returned with their food and everybody fell momentarily silent, more occupied with their breakfast.

That being said, Bill made no more attempts to snatch Beatrix's five dollar shake.

Beatrix nor Budd were going to remark on Bill's earlier comment as they both had distasteful feelings towards it so they shut up. If this was to be an uncomfortable silence than the food was making it more comfortable.

Beatrix had to admit she was enjoying her bacon and eggs and the fact she was hungry to begin with made it more enjoyable. It was surely a worthy diner she'd insist to go to more often, especially when Bill didn't feel like playing host. Time passed at a reasonable rate as the three finished their meals. Beatrix scooped up the last bit of her scrabbled eggs with a dash of salt, and set her fork down. "Pardon me while I go use the restroom," she declared in a casual tone of voice.

She brushed Bill's side affectionately as well as playfully as she rose from her seat. "Have fun," Budd dramatically added with a sly grin as he shuffled more food into his mouth.

"I sure will," the blonde replied over her shoulder and sauntered off to the bathroom to have some 'fun'.

Bill, who made a habit of not eating too much cholesterol nowadays, was still finishing up his pancakes and side of mixed fruit, when Beatrix brushed by to momentarily take leave of the table.

He offered her a smile as she passed by him and watched her walk off towards the back of the diner. There was no missing the look on his face as he did this. There was something of a universal male expression that said a number of things in one shot.

His attention focused back on his nearly cleared plate, he glanced across the table at Budd, a drastic change in demeanor took over.

"Don't drink a woman's five dollar shake?" He snorted, "Alright Budd...I suppose I can take that one bit of advice from you. But I draw the line there."

A few more moments of silence passed between them, where Bill nonchalantly pretended to disregard his brother completely.

"So...," Bill spoke up, examining his glass of water, "...what exactly where you doing in Texas?" This was delivered in that trademark casual but somehow threatening tone of voice.

Budd was sectioning off the last piece of his sausage when Bill spoke up with an actual question. It wasn't the most pleasant but it was delivered in a brotherly fashion. He set down his sausage with the fork prongs half embedded into the lard of fat and settled his knife before giving Bill a leveled gaze. "If you must know," he began slowly. "I was hanging out with Ernie. You remember Ernie, right?" The cowboy folded his hands on the table and deliberately cleared his throat. "Anywho, he wanted me to come visit since we hadn't seen one another since that incident in Southern Texas." Ernie and Budd were friends or as close as friends one could get with Budd's profession. So throughout the years they remained in touch. "He showed me a couple of the bars down there. It was along the borders of El Paso."

He shifted in his seat. Budd never much liked trying to make civil sibling talk with Bill. It never worked, but he managed. "I was payin' a courtesy call."

"Ah," Bill raised his chin, "I see," he replied characteristically, pushing his empty plate towards the end of the table. "If I'm remembering the right Ernie, the guy's a complete asshole," he shrugged, "The last time I saw him he called me an arrogant prick," he smirked, giving his brother a look, "Not that I'm arguing..."

He took a long drink from his glass of water, setting it back down with a dark frown. Obviously he had something on his mind, but instead he slowly glanced around the crowded diner with a distant look. Eventually he came back around to gaze at his brother, giving the younger man a probing look. "You'd be wasting your talents pulling drinks instead of triggers Budd," he said pointedly. Leave it to Bill jump directly down the throat of the whole story.

In Bill's own twisted manner that was a compliment in Budd's direction and Budd took it as a compliment. He gave a tight nod. "I'll keep that in mind," he tipped his chin and took a large and 'rude' bite of his previously pronged sausage and chewed. Maria, the waitress came back shortly to clear away the dirty plates acting no less sociable than before. But, Beatrix, who was much more sociable returned, all freshened up and enjoyed herself in the bathroom as she was told to.

The check was already on the table as she slipped into the booth. Blue eyes viewed over the expressions on both men's faces with a casual rise of her brow. She sat down and moved to finishing off her shake. It would be tragedy if she didn't finish the last drop. All gone she said, "I'm ready when you are."

Bill cast one more glance at Budd, but said nothing more on the former topic. "I'm ready," he said a little dryly and snatched the check off of the table. Bill always had a tendency to want to pay for everything and he didn't allow either of them a word in otherwise as he made his way up to the counter to pay.

The three of them stood at the cluttered counter as a middle aged Hispanic man rang up the check. Bill grabbed a toothpick out of the dispenser as they waited.

Once the check was settled, the three of them exited the noisy diner into the warm glaring morning. The parking lot was now almost entirely full.

Chewing absent mindedly on the toothpick, Bill scanned the parking lot for his car...which he spotted within seconds. He had this old habit of finding his car visually before walking towards it. Clasping onto Beatrix's hand with a warm smile, they...along with Budd, began to make their way across the bustling parking lot.

Bill turned to the tall blonde at his side, who seemed to be in a very good mood, "So Kiddo, you-" but he stopped mid-sentence, eyes flashing with warning.

Something wasn't right.

Beatrix and Budd were killers who were trained mostly by Bill and thus they sensed that something surely wasn't right at the approximate time Bill did. Budd was hanging a foot back from the 'couple' when Bill had abruptly stopped. He stuffed his hands casually in his pockets as he had a way of blending in.

The tall blonde shifted in closer to Bill, she could as well play casual. If they were being watched it was smart not to lead on. As long as they all knew it was safe to say they had their backs checked. She nudged Bill with her elbow, her demeanor placid, but blue eyes were flashing. "So, baby, what were you saying?"

Bill played right along, well versed at this game, proud that Beatrix knew it just as well and thankful she had the sense to keep him on his toes. He pulled his cell phone out his pocket, checking the display for his messages...at least, that was the idea and the explanation for his momentary pause. After a few seconds, he put away the phone.

"I was saying," he replied smoothly, looking at Beatrix but at the same time looking beyond her, "So...now that you've helped me pack…..I have some business matters for you...," while he was talking, he slowly moved his other hand under his jacket, looking more like he was straightening his shirt than anything. "Nothing big, small errands."

They continued walking nonchalantly across the cracked and pot holed pavement towards Bill's car.

What had really set Bill off, as well as the other two, was the rather displaced looking silver Mercedes Benz parked on the far aisle of the parking lot. Amidst the run down pick up trucks and outdated 80's sedans, it just didn't really fit into a Mexican border town...and Bill knew Mexican border towns, after all he'd grown up in one. More than that, the Benz had unmarked plates. The same could be said about Bill's car, although at least it had Mexican plates.

This sort of thing might have seemed a bit on the super paranoid side to anybody else, but for those who were killers, it was important to always be watchful for these small not right things. It was inevitable that more than one person wanted you dead...and at least in Bill's case...it was well over one.

If the car wasn't enough, there were two men...in suits, standing about twenty feet from the Benz. They were turned at an angle, a posture that, for one who knew it, knew they were watching without wanting to be seen. Besides, most people didn't wear designer suits to this sort of diner...not even on Sundays...let alone owned a designer suit.

"Remind me I have some things to get out of the car," Bill continued, a placid...seemingly oblivious smile on his face. Of course, in this case...things meant things that fired bullets.

As the trio was nearing Bill's car, a rather random thing happened, or so it seemed...a woman came running up to them...apparently in a panic, her high heels clomping on the asphalt.

"You've got to help me!" She yelled, arms flailing. "I've locked my keys in my car and I've got to be at this meeting in San Diego in thirty minutes!" She motioned wildly towards the silver Benz.

Bill gave her a look that bordered on banal. She was dressed rather nicely, Caucasian, perfect English, late 20's, brunette, leather designer purse...

"I'd say you're screwed," Bill replied with a smirk, before removing his car keys, his eyes quickly flashing in Budd and Beatrix's direction.

"No, no!" The woman drew closer, more desperate. "You have to help me!"

"Actually," Bill opened his car door, "I don't think that I do." There was an audible click as he raised the muzzle of a pistol over the top of the door...just enough for those nearby to get a clear view, but discrete enough that it wouldn't attract any attention elsewhere.

The woman froze, her little act cracking significantly.

Bill was now dead serious, his piercing gaze fixated on the suddenly quiet woman, "Kiddo...do you happen to recognize this woman by any chance?"

The tall blonde gave the formally dressed brunette a skeptical look. The second the women came over with arms flaying in the window like a scolded chicken Beatrix knew this wasn't your typical 'I need help' situation. Actually, the blonde made a quick, amusing note to never ask Bill for help if she ever locked her keys in her car. Her mind placed in the face of the woman with a killer's accuracy. She blinked and said with an all out bad-ass, haughty expression, "Yes, I do. She looks like one of the woman I remember roaming around at-"

"Bob," finished Budd, standing on the opposite of Beatrix now. The blonde turned and gave him a quizzical expression as the cowboy wasn't known for finishing Beatrix's sentences.

"Bob's place..." she reaffirmed uncertainly. "I saw her when I was at Bob's place."

"No," Budd said, his tone indifferent but casual. "Bob." He turned, a hand coming out of his pocket to motion to the Benz. Beatrix and Bill both turned their eyes to see stepping out of the supposedly once locked stylish silver car, a man that no one particularly wanted the pleasure of seeing. "Ohhh...Bob," Beatrix stated with a tight nod, her expression on instant turned sour now that she clearly understood what the fuck Bill's brother was talking about.

Budd nodded stoically. "Yup."

"Well, I'll be damned," Bill mumbled to him, an amused smirk further spreading across his face, as he pivoted slightly to watch the man of the hour get out of the Benz. Of course, he kept the muzzle of the pistol glued right onto the brunette, who was now looking genuinely nervous as she spotted her boss coming their way.

Bob gracefully unfolded himself from the car, silver hair, sunglasses, Rolex, shoes, cufflinks, tie pin and ego all shining brightly in the morning sun. As he started towards them, the two men in suits fell in behind him in a flanking position. He seemed to take his time sauntering towards them, as he smoothly unbuttoned his blazer and put a hand in his pocket, as if he were doing a model shoot for GQ.

Bill's smirk only widened. He should have known the moment he saw that Benz, but the brunette had been the dead giveaway. He looked almost feral to finally get his hands on Bob.

Bob, finally done with his strutting, came to a halt a few feet from the group, his cronies stepping up beside him. "Bill." Bob said smoothly, designer sunglasses glinting, "I see you're still a craggy, burnt out, weed smoking, gun slinging, cradle robbing, wannabe kung fu cowboy." A small smile touched Bob's otherwise stony face, "….old dogs don't change I suppose."

"Ah, but you forgot murderous, untrustworthy bastard. And very nice to see you too Bob," Bill replied, looking even more amused, "Why don't you cut the bullshit cockblockery and tell us all why you've graced this lovely Mexican town with your cologne soaked presence."

Bob's lip twitched, but he moved on, "I received some...valid information that you had a hit out on me." His thin brows ached over his sunglasses, "You know I don't take kindly to death threats Bill. I decided it was best to stop you before you even tried."

"Bob," Bill almost sighed, gun still poised at the brunette, "...as tempting as putting out a hit on you sounds...I can't say I've had the fortune of that opportunity."

"You're an infamous liar Bill," Bob replied without hesitation. "I have every right to believe that, you are in fact, bullshitting me."

"You have the right...but you'd be wrong," Bill murmured, looking a little irked, "How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Bob answered in that confident tone, "Your nice housemaid...eh...Nicariki….or something or rather, informed me of your whereabouts. Not her fault Bill...I was very persuasive."

Bill's expression had turned stoic, he said nothing for the moment.

Bob's gaze turned to Beatrix and Budd. "Beatrix Kiddo," he said, a note of disgust creeping into his voice, "I didn't miss you and Bill's cute little couples moment back there. Your rather trashy Miss Kiddo, but I didn't think you'd really steep so low as to actually crawl into bed with the old bastard." His gaze flicked to Budd, "Then again...Budd, you are in fact...lower on the food chain."

"You've been practicing your insults," Bill spoke up, "How studious of you."

"I have, thank you Bill," Bob replied. "Now, why don't you get the heat off of my lovely employee Dana?"

"Actually," Bill raised the muzzle a little, a sharkish smile on his face, "I'd rather put a hole in the middle of her head."

Dana's eyes widened in terror, her red lips working nervously.

"I'd rather you not," Bob hissed, his voice suddenly many degrees colder.

"Actually," Beatrix intervened from her spot on the sidelines. "You are wrong," her words directed at Bob. "Bill didn't put a hit on you because if he had, I would have been the first one to volunteer and," she raised a daunting white finger to exaggerate the point, "If I had you would have been dead long before you could stroll down here to Mexico." The tall blonde warrior was acting quite cool in the present situation. Of course her hatred for Bob ran deep but she wasn't irrational…besides, a few of his low-brained insults were nothing compared to past insults she had endured, many of them, point taken, from the man she was crawling into bed with.

Budd was keeping to his spot on the sidelines and had to yet to take a step into the situation. He could be obedient and sly when he wanted too. For now he decided to let the big guys talk it out until something drastic needed to be dealt with, such as taking out a fire arm of his own. He shifted on his feet and hands returned to his pockets.

"I don't believe a word you say Miss Kiddo," Bob replied quickly and evenly to Beatrix, "Not only because I dislike you greatly and hold a very low opinion on your views, but I know for a fact that you learned how to lie from Bill himself here. You're a liar amongst liar's Miss Kiddo...don't bullshit me...I find it highly insulting."

Bill raised an eyebrow, taking all of this in, the toothpick he'd picked up minutes earlier still clenched in-between his teeth. Bob was a grade A prick and he certainly wasn't going to pass up the chance to get rid of him. But, he had to play this cool if that was to be the outcome. Beatrix and Budd were likewise playing it calm...but this was going to be a tricky one for all of them, since Bob was a shade stonier than the average asshole. Not only that, despite his designer look and fanciful attitude, he was a dangerous man...as were the two men at his side. There was no telling how many other CPA cronies Bob had brought with him either.

Then again, Bill knew he and those who worked for him were far more dangerous. He'd just have to take some chances on this one.

"Ya know Bob," Bill drawled, leaning a little against the door, yet still holding a tight aim on the petrified looking Dana, "...I hate to say this, but you're really getting far stupider with age. If you really wanted me dead, you should have sent your best killers to find me. Instead, you show up yourself...so I can conveniently kill you. Honestly, I had no intention of killing you...but now, you've put yourself in the situation...leaving me no other choice."

"Your not going to kill me Bill," Bob sneered, "And don't use the word honestly...it doesn't suit you."

"Hrm," Bill smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. Suddenly, amidst this very nonchalant gesture, he smoothly shot the brunette Dana, right between the eyes. The gunshot rang throughout the parking lot. She slumped to the ground with a short gasp and a good amount of blood spraying out the back of her head. Before her body even hit the ground, Bill had trained the gun right on Bob...whilst in the meantime everybody else had drawn formerly concealed weapons in a matter of seconds.

It was a genuine standoff now.

"Jesus Christ!" Bob had taken a reflexive step back, his own small pistol now in his hand, "You're a maniac Bill." He snatched off his sunglasses, being sure to crisply put them away in his jacket pocket before moving on, "That was extremely uncalled for," he hissed, cold grey eyes flashing with sudden anger.

Bill shrugged again, as if shooting somebody was akin to throwing his shoe at them, "I dunno...somebody had to something."

"Certainly...but killing my employee...that was unnecessary."

"As unnecessary as killing...oh what was her name, Kiddo?" he tiled his head towards the tall blonde standing next to him, "Ah...wait...I remember now, Clarice..."

Bob's small nostrils flared, an unmistakable rush of anger reddening his face.

Bill sneered. Bob had walked into this with the upper hand, but it was his turn to take it back. He knew he was goading Bob on, and he knew Bob was more prone to do something even stupider under the influence of his own anger.

Bill leaned forward a little, "Do you want to know how I killed her Bob?" he said softly.

"You fucking sadistic bastard," Bob snarled.

Bill chuckled, chewing on his toothpick, "Are you sure you don't want to know?"

"Shut up," Bob replied with a raised finger, "Just...shut up…."

"Oh come on Bob!" Bill threw his unarmed hand up in disgust, "You're a killer Bob, not a fucking pencil pushing cocksucker, so start acting like a killer!"

Bob obviously found those words rather insulting as his lips drew back in a feral expression. It was weird to see Bob crack...but apparently he wasn't impenetrable. He cocked the hammer back on his pistol, taking aim at Bill, but suddenly changed his mind and aimed it at Beatrix. "We all have our weaknesses Bill..." he whispered.

That was a cheap shot, well; Bob was 'cheap' so they probably should have expected that. Beatrix stood there with a conveniently construed line on her face. She wasn't smiling, smirking, or grinning but she wasn't quite blank in façade either. She just was, which said a shit load for Beatrix Kiddo. She never was one for playing damsel in distress (that had been noted times before), she despised being vulnerable, nor did she enjoy being part of a guilt trip so her current predicament wasn't on her 'favorites' list.

Everyone had a gun pointed at someone's head. Bill poised at Bob, Budd poised at the two jackass henchmen who had a gun pointed at both brothers, and Bob had a gun poised at Beatrix, who was the only without a gun. This had to change.

Normally Beatrix carried a weapon on her 24/7 and this day was no different. Well, only by a smidge, considering they had just gone out to breakfast the blonde didn't make it a priority to pack on the real deal. She had her SOG in her boot and that was it. If she had known she'd have to fend for her life after eating a hardy meal of bacon and eggs she would have brought a fucking machine gun, but unfortunately she didn't think like that. But, that wasn't a problem.

Bill had conveniently left the trunk open which concealed under all of the unnecessary car shit a shitload of firearms, or at least one more pistol. So, she took her chances and made her move. The tall blonde warrior in a daunting measure of speed and accuracy, moved from her position, a few inches behind Bill but in front of Budd, stretched an arm into the trunk, whipped out a 9mm, came back and leaned behind the edge of the car, arms extended, hammer cocked, and poised to blow Bob's fucking head off. All of this done in the process of Bob firing off his weapon that only whizzed past the spot Beatrix would have been in had she not moved.

She wasn't Quick Draw Kiddo for nothing. Long white fingers flexed on the cool metal, her façade hard and blue eyes frozen. A brow lifted smugly in Bob's direction silently challenging him.

Bill hadn't been all that worried about Bob's turn on Beatrix. Bob had thought he was going to crack at the sight of his woman with a gun to her head. Well, Bob had thought wrong.

Bill laughed; chuckling at the expression on the CPA boss's face as Beatrix confidently whipped the gun out of the trunk and trained it on him. One could almost hear a trademark 'that's my girl' behind that laugh.

Bob now just looked incredibly irritated, his own gun firmly leveled at Beatrix's eyes.

Bill's gunshot and then Bob's moments before had not gone unnoticed. A number of people had fled, whilst a less intelligent group remained gathered behind the windows that lined the front of the diner. Bill had been very aware of the consequences of firing a gun in public, even if it was in a dinky Mexican border town. But, he had every intention of this little standoff having ended and he, Beatrix and Budd safely long gone from the scene by the time the disorganized and ill-funded police force showed up to investigate.

"Don't be stupid Miss Kiddo," Bob hissed, staring her down.

"If you'd have put a bullet hole in my car," Bill spoke up quietly, "I would have just skipped this whole inane but amusing standoff thing and blown your fucking head off," he shrugged, "Good thing for you, you didn't. Besides, I think 'Miss Kiddo' deserves that honor more than myself."

Bob did not reply...most likely because mere seconds later, one of his cronies got a little too twitchy from the tension and fired off his weapon at Budd. He missed, but this set all hell loose.


	27. A Side Of Bob

There were multiple exchanged gunshots as everybody expertly took cover. This round resulted in the death of the crony who'd fired at Budd. It seemed Budd had shot back with much better accuracy and now the black suited man lay on the pavement, sprawled out on his back and quite dead.

Bob had taken a shot in the forearm, difficult to tell who from. He was now crouched behind the back bumper of an ugly green pickup truck. He was clenching onto his bleeding appendage, his gun still held in his injured arm's weak fingers. He was clenching his teeth against the pain and perhaps also at the sight of so much blood on his designer suit.

Bill had thrown himself over the hood of his car the moment he saw what was happening, rolling over the top of the hood, and landing somewhat painfully on the concrete.

Things had now just gotten a whole hell of a lot trickier. He could see the spreading pool of blood and the dead white hand of the crony from the gap underneath his car. The other crony was most likely alive, along with Bob, and who knows who else Bob had brought along.

Bill could hear both Beatrix and Budd close by; the sounds of their breathing reaffirming him that they had both survived that volley of shots. He checked his corner with a quick glance...nothing except for rows and rows of car bumpers.

Beatrix had dodged behind a second row of cars behind were Bill had dodged. Budd was close by but as to exactly where was unsure. After the array of gunshots the tall blonde warrior was fully adrenaline pumped into killer mode and that wasn't hard to do in the seconds she had. She was now stealthily crouched down on the pavement, back plastered against a car door, and firearm pressed tight to her chest. She strained her hearing to catch familiar and unfamiliar breathing and movements.

The entire parking lot was eerily silent, so that if a tumble weed brushed by it wouldn't have been completely out of place. This lasted for a total of two minutes until there was a cluster of noise from behind the row of cars Beatrix was behind. That's where Budd must be with his lacky buddies. She shrugged it off and repositioned herself.

She craned her neck down to stare under the car and off to the side. It was easy to see the crimson pool trailing down the sun baked concrete. With as much skill as a snake Black Mamba slinked down her row of cars until she came one car behind were Bob was dealing with his injuries. Another risky and spontaneous action was displayed. Beatrix had splayed herself out on the cement, lying on her side, arms extended in front of her, hands clenched to the firearm, and fingers clenched to the trigger. She spoke up effectively, "I could put a bullet in your fucking ass."

Bob reacted to Beatrix's words by letting out somewhat of a very unmanly yelp. Apparently she'd completely snuck up on him unnoticed...like a snake in the grass.

Formerly immersed in his injury, he sprung up, moving his ass quickly out of firing range from Beatrix's vantage point. "I would prefer you didn't," he hissed back, already on his feet and making a run for the next row of cars. Of course, Beatrix was on him and Bob knew it. He also knew it was not the wisest move to run, but he had to find a safe place to collect himself...and thus far, this entire parking lot was far from safe.

Bill meanwhile, was making a sneaky ducking prowl through the maze of cars, his gun clasped confidently in front of him.

He had heard Beatrix speak to Bob, which was rather funny, but it was hard to tell, staying so low to the ground, exactly where she was. He could get the direction...but the distance was trickier. When he sprawled down on the pavement, he couldn't spot any moving feet and only managed to get motor oil on his shirt...which pissed him off.

Panting, Bob's rather frantic flee from Beatrix paused as he came to a halt behind a huge brown full sized van...the type that most likely had shag carpet in it's interior. This time he didn't crouch, not wanting to take that risk again. He knew Beatrix was hot on his heels and he had to come up with a plan...and quick. Still clutching his injured arm, he pocketed his pistol and flipped open his always nearby cell phone. Speed dialing, he spoke a few barely audible words into the phone and just as quickly flipped it shut.

Bob wasn't so stupid as to not come without some sort of reinforcements after all.

But, this had cost him a few precious seconds. He spotted a brief blur of blonde out of the corner of his eye and once again pulled out his pistol. Mainly to cause a disruption, he spun around the corner of the van and shot a few rounds into the general direction of where he'd last seen Beatrix.

Bill lifted his head at the sound of more gunfire and made a sprint to the next row of cars...which incidentally took him across the large lane that divided the parking lot in half. Just as he was nearly across, a black BMW came flying around the corner, wheels squealing...one of the tinted windows slowly began opening and the barrel of an AK-47 emerged out of the window.

This was no East Detroit or South Central L.A., but it appeared Bob had taken a page or two out of the gangsta's handbook. His reinforcement had arrived.

Bill swore viciously, being the victim of a drive by shooting not his choice way to die and he threw himself over the hood of yet another car just in time. He was getting far too old to be doing those sorts of stunts and he certainly felt it as he landed on the pavement. Nevertheless, he could look over that fact, as his leap saved him from a dizzying spray of bullets that no amount of skill of Bill-like mojo could have saved him from. Instead, only a shower of glass rained on him, as the AK shattered all of the windows above and around him. Of course, he was wise enough to duck down and cover his head from the down pouring of sharp glass.

Hearing the distinctive sound of AK fire and that of shattering glass, Bob chuckled from his location behind the van. "You hear that Miss Kiddo?" He called loudly, knowing she was near, "Either Bill or Budd just got the capping of a lifetime...how fitting..."

Beatrix popped out from behind that very van that Bob was trying to hide behind. The hard stoned expression on her features showed she wasn't entirely thrilled with the gangsta style drive by. She was sure that Bill and Budd had survived just fine and even if she was concerned that wasn't evident in her demeanor.

The only concern she had was not seeing Bob on the concrete ground with blood oozing from his cranium in the next ninety seconds. She could have hit him off right then but he was facing away from her and she didn't want that.

She said smoothly, "Turn around, Bob, so I can watch your face as I put this bullet right between your eyes."

Bob froze in place. For a few moments, he just quietly stood there...facing away from Beatrix.

Over Bob's deadly silence, there was the sound of screeching tires. The black BMW came to a stop. Then, the duel echo of two opening and closing doors, as the car's two occupants got out and began to prowl the parking lot.

Bill meanwhile, was ever so slowly crawling out of the layer of shattered glass that was now covering him. If he moved too quickly he was going to acquire quite a few more unwanted cuts. He could hear the footsteps of the two CPA assailants who'd just got out of the car...and they were a little too close by for comfort.

Bob licked his lips. Slowly, he put his gun in his jacket pocket and turned around to face the blonde killer. He regarded her, and the muzzle of her gun, with those cool grey eyes. His thin lip twisted, "Miss Kiddo...", his voice dripped with a forced politeness, "...I don't think you have it in you...you're not Bill. You wouldn't shoot me like this, point blank." A broad, but somehow oily smile crossed his face, "So, why don't we just skip over that part. How about I offer you a better deal then you've got here? I know you are a good assassin...I've seen it. You kill for me like you kill for Bill, and I'll give you more money then you could even fathom." He tilted his head, "What do you say to that Miss Kiddo? And besides, you might find...with time, that you'll become just as fond of me as your current boss," another twist of the lip, more suggestive this time, "Hrm?" He held his arms out at his side, like some suited sacrificial Christ, quite sure of his own immortality.

Beatrix laughed and menacingly at that. First, Beatrix could never ever be persuaded by money. Hell, everyone could use a couple of extra bucks but she never killed for the money, the money was a bonus and she wasn't necessarily greedy either. Second, didn't Bob already hate her? Why the fuck would he want her to work for him now? And, thirdly, there was Bob's suggestive twist. Did he think of her as a slutty secretary fucking her boss for the 'bonuses?' This brought back a familiar sensation of aggravation and irritation in the tall blonde as certain co-workers had made the same assumption. She wasn't sleeping with Bill for that.

She had made it her highest priority over the past years, subconsciously, that if she ever slept with Bill it'd be different. It wasn't going to be a one night stand, a secretary wanting a raise, or alcohol induced sex. Both Bill and Beatrix had made it clear when they made their challenge they wanted it to be special and it had been, every single fuck.

Her fingers flexed on the trigger as she caught the shuffle of shoes on pavement a few feet down. If she hesitated then things could turn ugly and if she hesitated even further she wouldn't be a very good killer. Her façade froze. "You're right, I'm not like Bill…but I'm pretty goddamn close." And with that she sent two bullets into Bob's chest cavity, puncturing vital organs that would leave a clean and efficient bleed out. But, with this action came the consequences and they would come the second Bob collapsed to the pavement in a bloody heap.

There were a few brief seconds, where Bob had one thought before he died...and it was that Beatrix Kiddo was one hell of a bitch. He would have told her that too, if his throat hadn't suddenly filled up with blood. Sad that that was the last thought of the great and almightily...BOB...leader of the Certified Private Assassins and one of the most successful contract killer organizers of his time. Now, Bob was dead.

But his lackeys were not...and once they saw his body, they were going to go ballistic. And one of them had an AK.

More gunshots and Bill didn't give a damn anymore about some glass. He quickly brushed as much of the shattered glass off of him that he could and broke into a sprint in the direction of the shots.

The two CPA lackeys were running in the same direction, a few rows apart from Bill. The third lackey, that original who'd shown up with Bob was nowhere to be seen...presumably killed by Budd. Budd had thus far remained rather sneaky.

Bill found Beatrix before the two lackeys did. He rounded the corner, partially out of breath and glanced briefly at Bob's sprawled out body, tiny shards of glass falling out of his hair as he turned his head. He didn't say anything about Bob for the moment. "I can't stress enough how fast we need to get the fuck out of here Kiddo," he panted, although there was some good humor there...most likely due to seeing Bob dead.

Just then, there was the sound of duel footsteps and the clanking of a not so small gun. Bill spun back to Beatrix, "My car," he barked and took off past her, snatching her arm as he flew by her...more out of habit then any sort of rescue attempt. Beatrix needed to be rescued just about as much as Bob needed to come back to life.

If they could get back to his car...then they could take care of this problem. It was just a matter of getting there without twenty holes being put in each of them.

Why were diners so fucking crowded during brunch hours? It was getting fractionally harder for the two killers to make a mad dash through rows and rows of tight packed cars driven by Mexican assholes who had trouble parking in the line. The sound of quickened footsteps behind them was emphasizing the need to find Bill's car fast. And they finally came to where Bill's car was parked….or…had been parked.

The two skidded to a stop at the sight. Beatrix's went agog. "Where the fuck is your car?"

At this precise moment Bob's now irate lackies were a few feet down from the vacant parking spot, one brandishing a dashing looking AK pointed at Beatrix and Bill, both with their not so dashing handguns. They were cornered, like snakes, literally.

But they weren't worried. A shout of warning came from the far right followed by the screeching of tires and quite suddenly there was Bill's car! And, it was driving right at the men with the daunting firearms. The men tried to dodge out of the way before becoming road kill and the car came to fashionable and convenient halt in front of Bill and Beatrix. Budd was in the driver's seat.

Beatrix was still agog but blue eyes were shining. "Just get the fuck in," Budd directed before either of them could pipe up.

Bill had just had another of those rare shocked expressions on his face...first, over the lack of his car in it's parking spot...and then more predominantly when his brother used his car to run over the two last CPA assholes about to gun them down.

Budd could be a real piece of shit...but, he always seemed to redeem himself in the most crucial of situations. And this one might have topped the list.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Bill swore, the intention behind that somewhat vague, as he jumped into the passengers seat and slammed the door shut. He hated being in the passengers seat...unless Beatrix was driving, and he was in a good mood. But...he supposed he could make an exception...this one time.

The moment they were in the car, Budd squealed out of the parking lot. Bill cringed at his, glaring at his brother. "Do you have any fucking clue what kind of mess my front grill is going to be in now? You're picking the bits of bone and brain out, not me!" He warned with a finger. But after slumping silently against the door for a few moments, Bill smirked at his brother and turning to the backseat, gave Beatrix a lopsided grin.

"Well then...where should we go for lunch?" He teased.

Beatrix gave Bill a classic look from the backseat with arms crossed over her chest. She casually turned her head to the driver's seat. "Considering the likely-hood of Bill admitting it, I will," she began casually. "That was really cool, Budd."

The cowboy didn't reply but the blonde caught the appreciative eye contact she received from him through the rearview mirror and that was enough.

Although, the events after brunch had been hot, everything had simmered down by the time Budd, smoothly, pulled into the circular driveway of Bill's hacienda. All three got out of the car and Budd threw Bill back his keys. Where Budd had gotten the keys to begin with was a mystery. Well, it was one of two things. Either, Budd found that secret spot were Bill left the spares, something only a sibling knew, or Bill dropped them at some point, most likely it was the first. Bill was too fucking protective about his cars to drop his keys.

"I'll be 'round the back getting the hose," Budd said indifferently with a hand motion to the pathway leading around to the backyard. He didn't much care that he had to get the minor blood stains off the car. It required a quick hose down and he could go home.

Bill gave his brother a quick nod. It was simply Budd's lot in life, that no matter what he did, no matter how cool it was, he was never going to get a completely warm and accepting reaction from his older brother. While Bill was aware of this, he was perhaps partially unaware at the extent of it. In some ways...Bill treated Budd much like Bill's mother had treated him. But that's another story.

Bill and Beatrix went inside, where Bill spent a good ten minutes removing the last small chunks of car window glass from his hair and shirt. He'd acquired a few small scrapes, but nothing to care much about. It was far better than acquiring a few bullet holes.

He smirked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he did this, Beatrix leaning on the doorframe nearby. "So Kiddo...," he grinned, "...you killed Bob after all. I'd pay you extra for doing that...if you cared." He tossed a few chunks of glass in the trash can in the corner. "Asshole." He frowned, obviously going back to Bob, "I can't believe he had the nerve to show up like that...what a fucking moron...heh….well, was a fucking moron." He leaned forward to inspect a scrape on his forehead, under the soft florescent lighting, "I don't know where he got his information from...but whoever it was...I'd like to thank them for helping put that jackass out of business." Bill was mostly talking to himself of course, reasoning through the whole bizarre ordeal.

"There," he tossed another glass chunk in the trash can and turned to Beatrix, "I think I got it all." He took a few steps towards her and leaned his shoulder against the wall close to her, "It's days like this," he said softly, eyes focused on her, "...that I once again realize, there is no such thing as normal."

Beatrix had a coy smile on her face with her head tilted against the doorframe. She held an expression that read; and you are just realizing this now? But she didn't voice it as her eyes spoke volumes. She nonchalantly stretched an arm out to him and snatched off a shard of glass that he'd missed. Luckily she hadn't endured any substantial injury except for a black and blue mark from crawling around on the cement.

But of course she agreed with Bill. It wasn't every day one finishes breakfast and takes in a blood fest afterwards. She wasn't complaining, she enjoyed it, the adrenaline rush, the thrill, there was nothing compared to her job. She tossed the glass shard in the waste basket and turned her attention back to him. "With Bob…deceased…that puts you drastically higher on the chain." As to what chain she was referring to could range from bastard, murderer, or all out profession wise. Arms moved up to cross over her chest in a placid but somewhat haughty demeanor. "So now, you are the deadliest man in the world."

"Bob was not the deadliest man in the world," Bill corrected her with a raised eyebrow, "He thought he was the deadliest man in the world, but as you saw, he was a better businessman than a killer...more adapt at picking out a good suit than anything else." He smiled, "But yes...you're right, with him out of the way...my position has been drastically improved...much thanks to you Kiddo." He took a step towards her, "I'd like to think…..I've been the deadliest man in the world for sometime actually," his voice dropped as he drew closer to her. Just he was about to continue, there was the sound of short flustered footsteps coming down the hallway.

Nikishi came around the corner, obviously very, very upset. She was not prone to be very emotional, but at the moment she was far from stoic. She threw herself down rather pitifully at Bill's feet, stammering away, her English faltering more in her upset state, "Bill, please forgive me! I so...so...sorry...he...he...I didn't know…..he try to kill you...I had no idea...I did not mean to...Budd told me what happen...I did not know...," she then broke into a equally babbling line of Japanese, that translated to basically what she'd just been saying English. She clapped at Bill's jean clad leg with desperate fingers.

Bill watched her with a completely unreadable expression.

Nikishi's actions might have seemed rather strange, but it was partially from a different cultural perspective. Not only that, but she'd been around Bill enough to have seen him be extremely nasty to those around him...herself included. She genuinely feared for her wellbeing...and not without some very substantial evidence.

After a moment, Bill crouched down and clasped onto her narrow shoulders, "Nikishi," he spoke softly, "Look at me." She hadn't looked him in the eye thus far, and even now she had turned her head down. "Look at me," he repeated with more force. Slowly, she tiled her chin up to look at him, eyes still turned down. He tilted her chin up with his palm, forcing her to look at him. "Look...I'm alive...Beatrix is alive...Bob's dead. I'm not angry with you...OKt? There is no need for this. I accept your apology, but I am not upset. Do you understand me?"

Very slowly, Nikishi nodded her head, some of her fear dissipating. She let Bill help her to her feet, her head once again tilted towards the floor. She turned to Beatrix on her own fruition, eyes once again downcast. "I am very sorry Beatrix," she spoke to the tall blonde in a humbled tone. Her demeanor was far less frantic or submissive as it had been with Bill, but there was a definite air of humility when she spoke to Beatrix. "Forgive me for my mistake...I put your life in danger...for that...I am so sorry."

Bill was watching Beatrix over Nikishi's much shorter frame with an intense look. Nikishi had never addressed any of Bill's employees like she was addressing Beatrix at the moment. She always treated them with respect of course, that was expected. But with Beatrix...there was something more, she was almost treating her like she treated him, as if Beatrix had risen to a higher level and thus deserved a higher level of protocol. Bill, having lived in Japan for sometime, understood this language and he hoped the Beatrix could decipher through it enough to realize how much of a compliment it was to her on Nikishi's part.

Beatrix stared at Nikishi for a brief moment but not in the mannerism of being rude. She was registering the display she had just witnessed. The tall blonde was more than familiar with Japanese customs and she did feel honored. She recalled this new found respect she received from Nikishi was given some months back when her relationship with Bill was going through rocky terrain. It was almost as if Nikishi was the only one that had been there 'behind' the scenes of some drastic points during the course of several years, and that created an understanding of sorts. It was hard to say what was there, but what was there was nice.

The tall blonde put on a warm façade that was anything less than threatening. She chose Japanese tongue to reply, "Accepted." Beatrix didn't need a long monologue to get the message out that she forgave Nikishi for a small slip up and when she could she much preferred using short sentences, this was a known fact to anyone. Those cool blue eyes didn't look at Bill but she knew he was watching, scrutinizing her. It was irritating. but she knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, that was Bill.

The Japanese woman still seemed ill at ease and the blonde decided to add in English to lighten it up, "You don't have to worry about it. I should be thanking you, considering that we finally put that fucking asshole out of his misery. You did us the favor by bringing him to us."

Nikishi gave Beatrix a small bow, "Thank you Beatrix," she replied in that same tone of humility, not returning the tall blonde's casual attitude...that just wasn't' Nikishi's style. But she did seem much calmer, probably because of Beatrix's presence. Bill would always intimidate her, even when he wasn't angry...but the femininity of Beatrix seemed to calm her. "Thank you," she said again, with a small smile, looking at Beatrix in the face for the first time since she'd walked in. She looked like she was going to say something further to her, but then she just bowed again and giving Bill another low bow, left the room.

Bill watched her leave with a neutral expression and then turned back to Beatrix. He came back to her side, a warm look replacing the colder one he'd been expressing with Nikishi. He laced an arm around her waist, "What were we talking about?" He seemed to have dismissed the whole Nikishi thing quite quickly, which for Nikishi was a very good thing, "Oh yes…..of course..," he smiled, "I find it highly comforting knowing that the deadliest man in the world is now with the deadliest woman in the world." Bill had mocked her with that title before, but he was using with the utmost affection now. "Perhaps," he raised a brow, "….there is some fitting justice in the world. You killing Bob today further proved that." He pushed some strands of hair from her face, more out of an excuse to touch her than actual need.

Beatrix tilted her forehead to settle against his to help his need, not that she didn't want it herself. Blue eyes sparked pensively but that was only a mask to cover other emotions. "And to further prove this justice I'm sure you can come up with a much more...substantial method of paying me than money." There was a suggestive arch in the slender crease of her brow.

Bill returned the suggestive brow arch, an unmistakable glint in his eyes, hardly as good as diluting certain emotions as Beatrix was. He drew closer to her...freezing within centimeters of her lips.

"You're talking about me buying you a new car right?" His lip twisted, but he quickly realized he couldn't keep the lame joke running standing this close to her. Instead he kissed her, the action brimming with intentions of finding a method of substantially paying her back.

As it tended to happen with them, this kiss seemed to take on a sense of lost time, and when Bill finally pulled away, he realized that they'd somehow walked themselves out into the hallway. Perhaps they both subconsciously realized that the restroom was not the most...romantic of locations.

Bill didn't ponder this movement long, as he quickly went in for another kiss. But halfway there, there was suddenly the distinctive loud noise of the front door being opened.

Bill froze, moving his lips over to Beatrix's ear he spoke softly, "It must be Vernita...I told her to come by after noon to fill me in about her last assignment." There was no mistaking the sound of disappointment in his voice.

"Bill?" It was Vernita all right, calling loudly but casually from the living room, "I'm here...," a pause and the sound of her shuffling around, "I'll be stealing some food from the kitchen..." Her voice dropped off as she went into the kitchen.

Reluctantly, Bill pulled away from Beatrix. A hand strayed up to her cheek, his eyes warm with affection. "We should go back to Paris," he smiled, a touch of remorse there. Squeezing her hand, he took a few grudging steps backwards and finally turned around and made his way into the kitchen.

"Yes Vernita….." he spoke in her direction, his tone of voice completely altered.

Beatrix didn't follow Bill, but turned and locked herself in the bathroom she had just previously departed from. Inside she used the facilities and then proceeded to wash her hands in the porcelain sink. As the warm liquid spilled into her cupped hands, suds of soap beginning to brim, the tall blonde stared absent mindedly at herself in the wall mirror. Her features looked fine and the only conclusion she came to from inspecting herself in the mirror was her hair was getting longer. Blonde locks were far past shoulder length and her bangs weren't as clean cut. She took a mental note to cut her bangs in the near future but perhaps she'd let her hair length stay at the increased length.

Well, enough about looks, Beatrix turned off the faucet, dabbed her hands on the towel, and raided Bill's medicine cabinet. Since they arrived at the hacienda she felt the irritating thudding in her temple, which if not taken care of, would develop into a nasty head ache. Not that she couldn't handle it, she just chose to take the easy way out for today. She popped the aspirin, threw out the paper cup, and stepped out.

As sandaled feet padded down the hallway she could hear the distinct voices of Vernita and Bill speaking casually to one another. She began to wonder if it was safe to intrude but seeing she had given them enough time to get in 'private' matters it was as safe as it was going to be.

When Beatrix entered the living room, Vernita was seated at the bar. Her muscular arms, revealed by a sporty looking red tank top, were crossed over her chest, warm up clad legs wrapped around the legs of the stool she was currently sitting on.

Bill was sitting on the couch across from her, in his typical dominating but casual attitude, cowboy booted feet resting on a sleek Oriental styled footstool.

They both turned to look at the tall blonde as she entered, their conversation pausing momentarily. Bill smiled, Vernita glowered...although she didn't seem all that surprised that Beatrix was around, it was becoming pretty expected as of lately.

"Kiddo," Bill started, "I was just telling Vernita about this assignment I'm going to send you on tomorrow. Mainly because, the assignment she just came back from...eh...Rebecca Cho was her name...has a direct connection."

Vernita nodded silently, not really caring all that much about such inane details. She'd done her job, she'd told Bill about it...she honestly didn't give a shit that her assignment had a connection to one Beatrix was about to do. Bill cared about that sort of shit, she didn't.

"Which reminds me," Bill dug into his jacket pocket, revealing one of those familiar manila envelopes. He tossed it at Beatrix, who of course caught it with expert ease. "We'll go over it later...but just a heads up."

Vernita shifted on her stool, dark eyes on Beatrix...before turning back to Bill with a more pristine expression.

Just then, Bill's cell phone rang. He pulled the small flip phone out of his pocket, the ring tone playing a recognizable but amusingly inaccurate version of The Eagles "One of These Nights" He looked at the caller ID, "I've got to take this..." he mumbled and opening the phone, he stood up and walked out onto the back patio, already speaking in Mandarin.

Vernita watched him leave, and then leaned back a little, eyes falling back on Beatrix. "How ya been Bea?" she quarried in a distant and rather uncaring tone.

Beatrix rounded the bar counter in a slow saunter, setting the manila folder on the edge for later reference. "I've been fine," she responded keeping a similar tone of voice to Vernita's. She was going to be civil but she sure as hell wasn't going to be overly pleasant. The tall blonde looked as if she were to say something else, lips parted, but she did a ninety degree turn to the refrigerator to take out a carton of orange juice. After such retrieval was taken she questioned, "And how have you been?"

Vernita gave a little shrug of her sleek dark shoulders, "I've been well," she replied civilly, but devoid of any of the warmth that used to be there when her and Beatrix had been close. "Working...the usual," she paused, a slightly conflicted look coming over her face...as if she was trying to stop herself from saying something. Finally, she gave in to the temptation. "I met my doctor," she said suddenly. There was no missing the excitement and quiver of perhaps girlish giddiness behind her voice. "I met him while I was...on suspension," her voice grew momentarily darker at this, but she quickly regained her tone of excitement. She felt weird, talking to Beatrix about the sort of things they'd used to talk about...but she was too happy about this new turn of events to care at the moment. "He's a surgeon...makes a shitload of money. He lives in San Jose right now, but he's thinking of moving to a different hospital in The Valley." She smiled to herself, obviously relishing some recent fond memory of him, "He's only a few years older than me...which is really surprising for a surgeon….of course, he's brilliant and hella good looking." Her smile turned a little devious; now it was time to truly rub it in to Beatrix, "Best thing is...he wants kids, right away." She examined her short nails for a moment, "I think he's going to ask me to marry him the next time I get out to see him...I just have that feeling..." She trailed off, lost in her own thoughts of marital bliss. "Hrm, that's right Bea...pretty soon...I'll have that dream."

Vernita, of course, was getting a little ahead of herself. Bill had no clue about any of this and she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to try to convince him to let her leave. But, she was hell bent on it happening.

For a brief daunting second Beatrix thought Vernita was going to play nice and then she went and did that. She could literally feel her body freeze over. That was cold and much uncalled for. In the past she may have been happy to know that Vernita found that good old doctor she'd been on the hunt for. Beatrix didn't give a fuck about what Vernita did when it came to her personal life, once she may have, but not now. Vernita was free to go elope, quit her job, buy a house with a white picket fence, get married, and have kids and Beatrix would go on with her life, but what made the tall blonde bruise was when she referred to it as 'that dream'.

But, she wasn't going to allow Vernita the satisfaction of knowing she got to the blonde. Instead she put on a taut lined smile and poured herself that glass of orange juice, which she was in the midst of doing. "Good for you Vernita," her words were coarse like sandpaper as she capped the carton. She kept those cool tempered blue eyes at a downcast level. She stared at the carton for a moment before turning without another added word to put it away.

Of course, Vernita was very, very aware of how much of a low blow that had been on Beatrix, and she didn't give a shit. She was glad Beatrix was hurt by that...and while the tall blonde was doing a damn good job of playing it cool, Vernita knew her well enough to recognize the slight tightness in her shoulders as she put the carton of orange juice away and the gruff edge to her voice when she spoke.

Vernita wanted Beatrix to throw a fit, get really upset...but she also knew Beatrix was a true protégé of Bill...in more ways than one. And while Vernita truly loathed Beatrix at this point, she had to respect her cohort's success in that category. Beatrix was as close to being Bill as Bill could have hoped for in any of them. And perhaps...just a tad, Vernita was jealous of that...not jealous in the way Elle was, but jealous on a professional level. But, her jealousy quickly died away when she thought of the lifestyle she was going to have...and knowing that lifestyle was what Beatrix secretly wanted as well.

That being said, she knew Beatrix wouldn't give her the reaction she really wanted and Vernita stood up, stretching her legs...obviously getting ready to leave. She'd said what she'd wanted to say to Beatrix, there was no point in enduring further tension.

Just then, Bill reentered the house through the patio doors.

"I was just heading out Bill," Vernita said, back to her polite tone, "Call me when you've got another job."

"Of course I will," Bill responded coolly, taking Verinta's place on the stool she'd just vacated.

Vernita headed for the door, she turned to look at Beatrix, "See ya on the other side Bea," she gave the blonde a wicked shit eating grin before sauntering out the front door and shutting it.

Bill cast a dark glance at Beatrix, far more aware of Beatrix's body language than Vernita was. He pursed his lips, raising his brows at her, "Whatever it is Kiddo...it's not worth your anger."

"I'm not angry," she muttered. Her back was turned to Bill and she was still hovering over the refrigerator, even though the juice carton had long since put away. Long white fingers were clenched deafly tight on the handle but it didn't last long. She switched and casually released her grip letting the door methodically seal shut. She could easily and quite enjoyably spill the beans to Bill about what Vernita was thinking about doing. She could play that wicked game but she didn't. She wasn't a hundred percent sure why but it wasn't the right choice.

Bea took a step back to the counter, her anger dissipated, but her head ache only increased, and she took a long sip of her orange juice. Her mind worked but she didn't voice them. Bill was watching her and she finally looked at him with warmer eyes. He obviously didn't want her dawning on what transpired so she moved on to the next best thing. She extended an arm and slid over that manila folder as a direct clue.

Bill surpassed a smirk, like hell she wasn't angry. But he didn't prod, he knew better and she seemed to quickly shove whatever it was aside for the moment. Watching her closely, he thought...briefly, that there was more going on than she was letting on. But again, he knew better and he'd learned not to push Beatrix with certain things.

Instead, he lowered his gaze to the manila folder she'd just pushed across the counter. He took the clue, and picking up the folder, he neatly removed the contents and arranged them on the marble toped counter.

"Lisa Wong," he began, sifting through the variety of papers, "Los Angeles..Chinese underground boss. She's big time." He found what he was looking for, pushing a glossy color picture towards Beatrix. It was a snapshot of a very pretty Chinese woman in her early 30's, clad in all black. While certainly pretty, she was far from angelic, possessing a cold and calculated savagery in her feline eyes. "She tends to hire only female assassins...I can relate," he quipped, "...mostly Asian...younger crowd." He picked up a dossier sheet, "She's involved in just about everything the West Coast has to offer...drug trade, black market guns, some prostitution, extortion. Her particular crime syndicate has come under suspect of a certain client of mine. This client also wanted Rebecca Cho out of the way, Vernita's last target. But Cho is small time compared to this Lisa Wong." He glanced over the piece of paper at Beatrix, "I worked in the San Francisco Chinese underground for awhile...when I was younger and believe me Kiddo….you don't fuck around with the Chinese underground. They're smart, cold and relentless. Being careful is just the beginning when you're around this sort." He set the dossier down, "Of course, I know you can handle Lisa Wong...but I assure you, she's going to have protection around her." He picked up another photo, "Her headquarters...in North L.A." The photo was of a very fancy looking nightclub with a large sleek red dragon design on the front, brimming with crimson red lighting. "From my sources, she can usually be found here during the night hours...I recommend getting in and out of there was quickly as possible. There's going to be a lot of good looking Asian women carrying around concealed firearms...try to avoid them if you can."

Beatrix gave a tight nod of understanding. She had during the course of Bill's lay out slipped into the stool beside him. Her arms were folded on the counter top, her back was arched forward, and her pretty blonde head was tilted down to view the paperwork. She was well aware of the risks on this assignment. It was a high stakes one, considering the target she had to go after, not to mention LA was a shitty place to work in. There was so much fucking security in LA it was hard to get by with an alias and that only made the entail hit for the professionals. Beatrix sure as hell was professional and although it would be hard she knew she could pull it off.

The tall blonde warrior was already beginning to sort over her tactics. She wasn't going to pack her katana, considering this Lisa Wong appeared to like to play with bullets. She didn't mind since she could always play with her other sharp object, knifes. She took in another quick skim over of the dossier before sitting up to a more proper posture with a placid façade. "I'll leave early tomorrow morning and be back before you know it." Her lips curled into a softer smile, designating that she was clearly over what happened with Vernita and set back to more pleasant thoughts.

Bill returned the smile, putting the paperwork back into the folder...in an orderly fashion. "Of course," he replied with confidence. He knew this was a risky assignment, but that was exactly why he was sending Beatrix. She'd had riskier throughout her years of working for him and she was best suited for this assignment. O-Ren would have been a good choice as well, but at the moment, she was in Tokyo.

He set the folder aside, and spun his stool towards her, their knees touching. He leaned an elbow on the counter, gaze resting on her. He watched her for a moment, the entire house relatively silent in the quiet noon hour. "I still need to repay you for killing Bob," he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face.

Behold men and their one track minds. Beatrix's smile flipped into a smirk and a slender brow came to crease ever so slightly. "Yes, you do," she replied in a lower tone. So, without further hesitation she leaned in and locked lips with Bill in an all out affectionate and wanting display. Hands slipped up to cup his cheeks in habit as the kiss lasted a good length of time to prove certain feelings.

Her hands dropped and she broke the kiss. The demeanor she now displayed was a mixture of warmth and hidden chills but it was hard to miss the side tilt of her head as she stared at the man before her. "Fuck," she muttered suddenly, and not in the context of suggestion but out of realization as if she had just been tricked. "You're supposed to be paying me…and I kissed you first," her words hinted on the playful side. "That wasn't nice."

Bill laughed both good naturedly and somewhat sardonically, "It was an unintentional ruse I assure you," he replied, voice all silk and seduction, "although...," he raised a brow, "I won't deny my role in the whole torrid affair." He never passed up an opportunity for dramatics and wordplay, "Playing nice is not my forte. Then again," he leaned forward, "...you're already well aware of that fact." He smirked, lips touching hers with the expression, "Let me set the record straight then..."

Beatrix wanted to be paid back and her desired method of payment was one that Bill needed no convincing to fulfill. This also meant that she'd set him up for a challenge of sorts, and Bill loved challenges just as much as Beatrix...and for him, especially those that potentially involved sex with a beautiful woman that he loved.

With that in mind, he set out to do just that. At this point, he knew pretty much every little thing that Beatrix loved...and perhaps, hoped to find a few more. Gathering all of these snippets of information into his mind, like bits of precious data for the world's most pleasurable thesis, he put them together.

The bar stools sufficed for a few minutes, but soon they proved to be somewhat uncomfortable and hindering. Besides, Bill knew Nikishi was still around the house...and she'd seen him do quite a few things, but he had to draw the line somewhere.

He and Beatrix moved into his bedroom, which was lit in an airy mild light in the midday sun streaming through the partially shaded windows.

Making love in the middle of the day was always different than at night. The whole mood was different...not either better nor worse than night….that was like comparing well...sex and sex...but it certainly held a different flavor...so to speak. Bill couldn't help but be reminded of his younger days, when he actually had the time to do this sort of thing during the day on a somewhat regular basis. There was a reminder of spice and endless summer to it all. Amongst everything, there was a certain level of amusement between him and Beatrix during all of this, and at one point he murmured into her ear something along the lines of, "...well, I can say for sure now, I'm certainly glad you killed Bob Kiddo..."

Bill took his time, not wanting to disappoint when it came to such an important payment. He made sure Beatrix had to do as little as possible, always the pleaser...and even more so in this case. He just hoped when all was said and done she be happy with her choice of payment. Although, he didn't have to hope...he pretty much sure as hell knew.

**Author's Notes **

Hi everyone! How are you? Good?

Anyway, just here to tell you the story is….not over! Mel and I thought it'd be a good idea to inform you since some may be confused since we have already mentioned the 'dreaded' name…Lisa Wong…

Now that you are aware, we have one more chapter to go…Yes, ending Bill and Beatrix's last day together having sex is all well and good but we Mel and I decided to be nicer to our reader's than the characters. So, one more to finish it off….and then you can go watch the movies…or do you? Hmm…okay…being quiet now. Don't worry, next chapter will be upin a few days.


	28. I Had To Choose, I Chose Her

"A normal day should always consist of a healthy dose of man-slaughter followed by an even more substantial fuck," Beatrix pointed out through an even breath. If that didn't clue in that she was more than pleased with her payment than nothing would. She was lying on her stomach, the sheet messily spread over her lower half, and arms folded on top of the plush pillow. Bill certainly knew how to please and Beatrix loved it. But, what she loved even more was that sex with Bill was never just sex. Sure, it was arousing, pleasurable, and an experience, but there was something more to it that she'd never get from anyone else.

Having sex in the middle of the day was different. One difference being she certainly wasn't physically exhausted and she didn't feel that washed out after sex feeling. She felt energized but not enough for another round. She turned her head in her lover's direction, her features glowing with sweat as well as inner warmth. "You know," she began in a softened tone, but she kept the level of amusement brimming, "You could save a shit load of money if you paid me like that all the time." Her lips stretched into a slyer smile.

Again, Bill laughed quite heartily for the umpteenth time that day, from his sitting position up against the headboard. He was now wearing, what Beatrix knew well, as a pair of typical silk boxers and the button up shirt he'd been wearing earlier, now unbuttoned. All was missing was a martini in one hand and a cigar in the other to make the picture complete.

"I could have," he chuckled, not even having to tell her that he would have enjoyed that form of payment far more than the stale transferring of some funds to her bank account. "Thing is," he shifted against the wooden headboard, "you would probably have permanently disabled my ability to pay you if I'd even tried." He smirked, "Not that I didn't think about it of course. Although...I will keep that in mind for future assignments," he grinned, brimming with amusement...and with Bill, that wasn't necessarily a silly lie.

Honestly, Bill would count these last few months as the happiest of his life. Not that his life had been so happy that there was any sort of tough contest. But, he liked to believe, that even a man who'd lived every day giddy out of his fucking mind, would find Bill's life at the moment…..amazingly happy.

He glanced out the partially shaded window, squinting into the afternoon sun, an unsaid but obviously content run of thoughts going through his mind. His warm look quickly returned to Beatrix. There were a few moments where he didn't say anything, but just watched her with unparalleled affection, whatever words he could say then, were communicated nonverbally. Finally, he spoke up, "I have to say, between everything that has happened post breakfast...I'm pretty damn hungry."

Beatrix let out a hearty laugh. Her brows knit together mockingly scrutinizing him. "I'm not that hungry," she began as she picked her head up from the pillow. "But, I could go for a light dinner." It was already three o'clock in the afternoon and that wasn't quite dinner and it certainly wasn't brunch. So, by the time they figured out exactly what they wanted to do it would be in the later hours, and that was a more acceptable eating time considering she wasn't that hungry.

This being acknowledged the pretty blonde realized she had to actually get out of bed in order for this to happen. She nonchalantly turned away from Bill, extended an arm, and snatched up her bra along with her shirt that had been haphazardly discarded hours before. She clipped on her bra and pulled her shirt over her head. "Do you have a dining preference?"

Bill frowned in thought, "Not really...but I do know of a number of good places of course." With some remorse, he crawled out of bed and padded across the room over to his large closet. "We could go up to San Diego...or stay closer in." His voice faded away for a moment, as he stepped further into the huge walk in closet. "There's always El Bueno Casa," he called out. El Bueno Casa was one of Bill's usual 'haunts' in the area, the one with the amazing mariachi band. It was good, but it wasn't always charming...as it was generally full of locals.

After a few minutes, Bill emerged from the closet with a neatly piled set of clothing. "I don't have a strong preference," slipped off his shirt, replacing it with the other one he'd just picked out. There was seemingly nothing wrong with the shirt he'd had on earlier, but this was Bill, "...as long as it's not too snobby...oh," he looked pointedly at Beatrix with a slight smirk, "...and no pizza."

He fell silent, more concentrated on finishing getting dressed. If he took a moment to really think about it, he would have thought the last few minutes rather amusing...in just how 'normal couple' they'd been.

The pudge in Beatrix's lower lip could signify a pout of disappointment upon hearing no pizza but it was cutely short lived and perhaps not even seen as she moved around to get the rest of her clothing on. If she had been paying attention she would have noticed the normalcy of what had just transpired, and knowing it would have made her even happier. Quite frankly, Beatrix had been in pure bliss for the past few months or so, ever since they'd first fucked and gained their relationship. It was so perfect in such a fucked up way that she found that she couldn't fully take it in and appreciate it or accept it as something worth holding on to. It just was and it seemingly always would be.

Fully clothed, she stood up and went over to the mirror above the dresser to pull long blonde locks up into a characteristically high pony tail. Blue eyes, brimming with warmth peered over to Bill from his reflection cast in the mirror. She watched as he finished dressing and she finished grooming, but in the process she had been thinking and soon an idea sparked. "Instead of going out to dinner we could order in," she suggested casually with a placid demeanor. The restaurants that did take-out weren't of the greatest finery but it was editable and as noted before, she wasn't up for a large lavish meal.

Glancing up from the edge of the bed, where'd he'd been sitting putting on his socks, Bill just as neatly removed them. "Agreed," he replied with a look of contentment. Back to his preferable state of barefoot, he put away the socks and joined Beatrix at the mirror.

"And it just so happens El Bueno Casa does take out," he grinned, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He dipped his head down, kissed her neck, and then rested his chin on her shoulder. It used to bother him slightly that she was just about the same height he was, but now...he loved it.

He gazed at their reflection in the mirror for a moment...finding them the strange and fearsome, but somehow fitting pair that they were. "I'll call it in," he spoke up, still looking at their mirrored image. Finally, Bill broke away and dug his cell phone out of his jacket, which had been somewhat haphazardly thrown over the corner of the bed. "Don't worry Kiddo, I'll get you something small," he said with a slight smile as he dialed.

Meandering slowly down the hallway, he began placing the order in Spanish. Bill knew the restaurant quite well and pretty much had the menu memorized at this point.

Beatrix didn't stalk out after Bill as he placed the order. She had enough confidence that he knew her well enough to know what she liked and disliked. It was almost disconcerting how much he 'knew' but that was something else she wasn't keen on thinking about. So she just went back into the bathroom. Inside she popped another three aspirin. Her head ache from earlier was making a comeback. Perhaps she was hungry and that was the reason for her head ache, hunger, rather than it just being fucking annoying.

When she entered back into the living room Bill was hovering by the bar with the cell phone on the counter. She kept a warm temperature glint in those blue eyes and a placidly thin smile on her face as she plopped down on a stool. "What did you order me?" She casually asked but with a hint of curiosity lingering in her tone.

Bill leaned across the bar towards her, "For you, I ordered their jumbo spicy burrito combo...with the full spectrum of peppers and chilis included. ….as well as a complete dousing of green chili sauce over the top. They say," he over dramatized, "the jumbo burrito is as big as a man's forearm." A smart ass grin spread across his face, as he watched her. He stood up straight, the grin dying down into a smirk, "I got you a soft shelled taco...regular toppings and a small enchilada. They make killer enchiladas; you at least have to try it."

He rounded the bar, sliding into the stool next to her. "They said it would be about thirty minutes for delivery...that's decent." His warm look settled on Beatrix, then lingered over to the back patio. "We should sit outside and wait," he decided suddenly and grabbing her by the hand, they went out back.

As he often did, Bill left the patio doors open, making it fairly easy to hear the front doorbell. The back patio was in its typical well kept, stylish but casual state. There were a number of wooden patio chairs, including more couch-like double chairs. They settled into one of these. Bill leaned back, legs outstretched, his arm around the back of Beatrix's shoulders.

The patio gave a nice view of the moderately large backyard and the Oriental garden/courtyard area that dominated one side. The late afternoon sun, slowly dipping down, was doing so from the left hand side...as to not fully glare into the eyes of those on the patio...no mistake on Bill's choice of course. The sunlight reflected oranges and deep yellows off of the garden's number of fountains and small pools underneath. The subtle stone and wood statues, which ran the gamut from snakes, dragons, Native American totems, Mayan gods, and Japanese figures, stood out in the silhouette of the sun.

It was all relatively silent, save for the soft trickle of the fountains, chirping of various birds and the distant hum of a passing airplane. "I'm definitely going to miss this," Bill spoke up into the quiet, his gaze fondly settled on the backyard. He would of course, but there was a tone of finality there, as if he'd already let it go. This was necessary to do when one was forced to move on at somewhat frequent intervals in their life.

His gaze turned back to Beatrix at his side, who was radiantly glowing under the rich sunlight, "We had some good times here...," he chuckled, "...and perhaps some not so good ones as well."

Beatrix gave a solemn nod of agreement. She was going to miss this hacienda as it had been her second home for so many years. She did recall that Bill changed locale in-between her three year period with Pai Mei but that had been to another hacienda within the state, which was the one he was currently residing in. So, that move didn't impact her as directly.

There were a shitload of memories connected with this place, good, bad, and mediocre. She would miss it, and she knew Bill would miss it, but they'd get over it, besides, it wasn't as if they had to leave the memories behind, she'd always keep them fondly locked away. She stretched her legs out and crossed them daintily at her ankles. Her pretty blonde head was tilted to the side and blue eyes were cast to watch a grouping of sparrows bouncing from limb to limb on a far off tree. She watched as one single sparrow glided down to the cobblestones where a small pool of water was forming from drippings of the garden hose. Budd must have finished his car washing duties and left some time ago. She couldn't blame him for wanting to leave as soon as possible, as car washing wasn't the greatest job in the world. The sparrow was joined by fellow friends and they merrily began chirping as they took a mid afternoon bath.

"I'd like to think where ever we are planned to move will be as nice, or nicer than here," she quietly commented. Bea was still curious as to where Bill had plans for their move, and even if she tried to clue in that she wanted to know she knew that he wasn't going to tell her. Her head now tilted against his shoulder and her fingers began idly twiddling at her sides. She was relatively tranquil at the present moment. The essence of the backyard had that effect on her quite often. But, she wasn't tired, just…blissful.

"I'd like to think that too Kiddo," Bill replied softly, "Although, I think you will find the new place acceptable." Bill knew she wanted to know the locale of the DiVA's next move, and honestly...he really did want to tell her. It wasn't that he didn't trust Beatrix, when in fact, he trusted her more than anybody. But, it was just too much of a security risk at this point. People can say the damndest true things under torture, and when one was an assassin, that was not an unlikely situation. Also, with the very recent killing of Bob, there was likely to be some sort of repercussion from the remainder of the CPA. That thought alone almost made Bill shift the moving date up sooner, but he wasn't the type to run either.

Bill leaned back a little further, slouching down slightly in a more comfortable position. "I will tell you though...it's just as hot as here, but I think, far more beautiful. It's a place I've never actually lived, but have a family connection to." Leave it to Bill to turn it into a riddle of sorts. He glanced at Beatrix, "You'll know soon enough...I imagine I'll let everybody in on it in a few weeks."

He wrapped his arm a little tighter around her shoulders, enjoying a few long moments in relative silence, save for the pleasant backyard noises. He let his mind wander; as he absently watched the group of sparrows kick around in the small puddle on the cobblestones. It was difficult to read his expression.

"Besides," he spoke up as if that long pause had never happened, "...you know I have good taste. It will be nice, I promise."

Beatrix was well aware of the tight context of moving and the reasons he couldn't give her the details. The last thing they needed was the CPA up their asses. It wouldn't be that big a deal and it was probably more avoidable than first perceived. So, she respected Bill's obscure riddle-like details by not prying any more, but deep down in her subconscious he had given her an enormous clue she wouldn't realize for many years.

Of course she knew Bill had good taste, she liked his taste, it was unique and different and classic 'Bill' and that left no complaints on her side. Lids idly drifted over shining blue hues. "Now I will be looking forward to seeing it more so than before," she stated and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder in appropriate affection. "But," her tone sparked with devious intentions. "I'd like to help decorate…If not the main bedroom than the spare room because," she noted the motion in his fingers against her shoulder. She added, "I am going to be spending the night more often and as much as I love reusing my clothes from the other day…and…borrowing your shirts…I think it'd be nice to not have to…worry about it." This was a fairly simple request and it wasn't that out of context as she had been trying to remember to bring extra clothes to the hacienda numerous times before and kept on forgetting. It wasn't just a couple's thing and she wasn't insinuating it as such, it was a topic of conversation.

Bill turned to look at her, a somewhat atypical look on his face. It was a hard look to place, one of slight surprise, complete contentment and perhaps...the full realization that Beatrix really and truly wanted to be with him. Of course, he already knew that...but...there was something about her request that really touched at him. It wasn't exactly a, 'I'm moving in with you' sort of request, but….on the other hand it spoke of a sort of long term permanence that made him more happy than he could possibly describe in words.

A rather silly smile spread across his face, that...if put on another sort of face than Bill's, could almost be called giddy. "Of course you can help decorate," he said in a soft and somewhat emotionally raw tone. "Both bedrooms...," he continued, eyes searching her face intensely. He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, looking as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he settled on a barely audible, "I love you...", which was interrupted halfway through by the doorbell ringing. Blinking, as if coming out of a daze, he flashed a smile...standing up, "Food..." he mumbled, still looking a little dazed and headed into the house to answer the door.

Beatrix was perplexed by Bill's initial reaction to her 'I'm moving in but I'm not really moving in, oh, and I'm redecorating' request. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting and she hadn't been clear in her own request. Actually, she only bought it up because she noted in the back of her mind that she couldn't stay the night tonight due to the fact all of her clothes were at her apartment and she had plans to leave on assignment early in the morning. But, she liked how Bill took it, so she wasn't going to question it. She slowly shifted her position in the chair and felt a creak in her stiffened muscles. This insinuated she had been sitting too long and rose up to her feet. She stretched long arms over her head and then flopped them down to her sides.

The tall blonde then began a slow saunter across the cobblestone path and back inside. She could hear the soft murmurs of Spanish down the hallway. Bill was most likely having a pleasant conversation with his restaurant buddy. A subtle smirk graced her deadly glowing features as she moved into the kitchen and began to take out necessary eating utensils.

A few minutes later when Bill came back into the living room with food parcels in hand, he found that Beatrix wasn't there but that she was outside. And outside; the small wooden square table was set with two plates, silverware, napkins, and iced glasses of water. "I thought," she began smoothly, "That since we were outside we could stay outside."

Bill emerged onto the patio looking slightly quizzical, but his look quickly turned into one of pleasant surprise when he saw that Beatrix had set the outside table.

"Excellent idea Kiddo," he replied with a smile and went back inside to get the food that he'd momentarily left on the bar. Reemerging with the take out bags, he carefully transferred the food onto the plates. After a few moments, one could almost believe it had been a home cooked meal.

Disposing of the bags, Bill returned to the table and sat down across from Beatrix. He took a moment to survey the whole set up, and obviously pleased with it, he cast a deeply affectionate look across the table at the tall blonde.

Then with a rare spell of silence, he turned to his plate of food and picking up the neatly set silverware, began neatly cutting up his meal.

It was a perfect night to be eating outside; warm but not uncomfortably so, very few annoying bugs were out and the sky was completely clear. The sun was now dipping low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the backyard and a hazy warm glow over everything else.

After a few moments of mutually silent eating, Bill glanced up at Beatrix, "How's the enchilada?"

"It's good," she replied after swallowing a portion of food in her mouth. It was actually very good and she was enjoying her light dinner. The food was helping to make her head ache enduring. which brought her to the conclusion that she must have been hungry all along.

The remainder of dinner consisted of eating and casual conversation. It wasn't that they didn't have anything to say, Bill never didn't have anything to say, they were just engrossed in their meal portions and their own thoughts. Beatrix wasn't thinking much. She was contently eating and sometimes not thinking held more pros than cons.

Long white fingers were aimlessly plucking up cheese shreds from the plate and redecorating it on the soft shell taco when she brought up a new topic. "I'm going to let my hair grow out," she informed characteristically. She was only telling him this because he loved her hair so fucking much it was only fair to inform him of her current choices on such subject.

Bill raised a brow, taking a sip of his water, "Mrm, good," he replied to Beatrix's hair growing comment with utmost casual agreement. Of course he did, for a man who loved blondes, the more blonde the better. Besides, like many men of the more 'traditionalist' school, long hair was the ultimate sexy.

"Maybe I'll grow mine out longer as well then," he commented coyly, neatly folding up his napkin. He was certainly heading that direction, seeing as Bill's hair was at the longer extreme of how he had worn it the last few years, falling somewhat past his shoulders. He'd worn it far longer of course, when he was younger, but he preferred not to have hair past his shoulder blades nowadays.

He pushed his plate a little away from him, so he could rest his elbows on the wood table. "Then again," he shrugged, "….maybe I'll just shave it all off...go for the Shoulin monk look." He was joking of course, like hell Bill was ever going to part with his hair...if he could help it that is. Nature had at least been kind to him in that category. He smirked at the tall blonde across from him, "But, back to your hair...you look beautiful no matter what your hair looks like Kiddo...but," he smiled, "...you won't hear any objections from me."

Beatrix returned the smile. "I wouldn't think so." As to Bill growing his hair out, she held no objections to it. She always liked Bill's hair and found it almost perplexing that he managed to keep it at such a longer length. Most of the older men she came in contact with didn't have the advantage of growing their hair out but Bill did. She found that trait about him appealing.

Well, now that the daunting topic of hair length was settled Bea silently finished off her taco. The relatively 'licked clean' plate was pushed aside and she slouched back comfortably in the wooden chair, her arms extended on both arms of the chair, and head canted slightly to the side. She was slowly returning to that tranquil state and that was obvious by the way she was looking at the man across from her. She tightened her lips as if she wanted to say something, but changed her mind to something else. "Did you enjoy your dinner?"

"Very much so," Bill replied with a soft smile, sitting in a similar slouched and contented posture as Beatrix. "I have yet to be disappointed by El Beuno Casa," he added, standing up with a little food induced sluggishness and began stacking the plates and utensils.

The sun had finally set, a hazy halo of orange over the trees to the West the last reminder of its presence. The sky above was now a deep turquoise and a few faint stars had begun to appear. The soft lights of the garden had come on at their programmed time, bathing the backyard in a pleasant yellow light.

When Bill went into the house with the dishes, he flipped on the porch lights, which were separate from the other backyard lighting, but just as aesthetically pleasing. This left the porch and all the surrounding area very well lit with a pleasant atmosphere.

After a few moments inside, Bill returned to the patio. He strolled up behind Beatrix's chair and let his hands fall on her shoulders in a very affectionate manner. Without much conscious thought he began softly massaging her shoulders. Head tilted down to look upon her with a look of pure adoration, he appeared as if he was gong to say something...but apparently changed his mind and fell silent.

It was hard not to melt into a shoulder rub especially when one was tense and Beatrix was tense. She wasn't tense for any emotional reason but more physically so with all of the 'hard labor' her days consisted of. Her chin tilted down to her chest and her muscles loosened at his touch. Bill gave good shoulder messages, she'd give him that. A content smile was on her face as she soaked in it a minute longer before she nonchalantly rolled her head up to look at him. Blue eyes were a prominent warm temperature.

"I should head home," she began with obvious reluctance in her tone, "…Because someone wants me to get up at the fucking crack of dawn to go to LA."

Bill chuckled, "Whoever that guy is, he's a real bastard." His hands lingered for a moment longer at her shoulders. Finally, he pulled away, fingertips raking though locks of blonde on their way.

He watched her stand up, "But...yes...you probably should." He hated to see her leave, it had been a strange but wonderful day...probably one of the best days they'd ever had together.

He'd never forget it. But, she was right. The flight to LA was an early one and it had been a long day. Beatrix would need all of her energy for Lisa Wong. Bill knew he had to stop being selfish. He wanted her to stay, but had to let her go home and get some sleep at a decent hour. His hand on the small of her back, they went inside. He watched her intensely as she rounded up the small amount of things she'd brought with her the day before; nothing more than a small bag really.

He realized with a slight smirk, that he probably had all sorts of her stuff around his place. No matter, he'd pack it up with his own for the move. With Beatrix ready, he followed her as she slowly made her way towards the front door.

The tall blonde ceased her steps at the closed doorway and turned to the man before her. A blissful smile was etched across her features and blue eyes flared with a warmth towards him, that would in time freeze over, but for now they were bright. She leaned in, an open palm coming to cup his cheek, and she kissed him; a casual but affectionate kiss to end the night. She then pulled back and stepped out as Bill opened the door for her. "Goodnight, Bill."

* * *

The soft glow of morning began to slip through the cracks in the curtain of the small apartment. A contour of body was nestled beneath the confines of the covers in the bedroom and that body did not move. Even with the distinctive and obnoxious buzzing of a nearby alarm clock echoed throughout the area, the room was dead silent. This continued for another five minutes until the alarm clock was violently knocked to the floor and a loud muffled groan came from the covers.

Thus emerged Beatrix Kiddo. She pulled off the covers and traveled to the washroom at a groggy pace. An hour went by until she came out of the washroom. She was clad in a pair of tight fitting blue jeans, taut with a brown suede belt that was decorated with a Native American styling, and a black v-neck t-shirt. Locks of layered blonde hair were pulled up into a typically high pony tail with loose strands mingling with her bangs. To put into finer words she was gorgeous…..well, gorgeous on days she didn't feel like shit.

Her usually bright, hard assed, deadly facial features were sunken in with prominent bags under blue eyes and her skin was a clammy white. She never felt like shit and if she did she usually sucked it up, but today she didn't want to suck it up. Why the fuck did she feel like shit in the first place? Her first thought was to blame Bill and his choice for take out last night. She'd blame him for the next hour until she thought up another reason for her dilemma. She wanted to dive back under the covers and go to sleep but she couldn't, she had to go on assignment.

Her next assignment, Lisa Wong. This assignment was given to her by Bill. She was a killer who worked for Bill, killed for Bill, and she was his woman. Bill's precious Black Mamba his little kiddo.

So, thus she sucked it up and went. The airport was deserted. No one took 4:30 AM flights to LA, which made it a hell of a lot easier to get on the plane without any problems, not that Beatrix packed that much to begin with. Although the plane was fuller than she expected, but not by much. There was a random group of business men on the plane, a family couple, one or two elderly couples, and about two singles, not including Bea. She took her assigned seat near the window and rummaged in her bag for that corn muffin she grabbed at the concession stand before boarding. Her stomach was doing back flips and she needed to calm it down quick. Dammit.

The flight continued to fill up a little more, although...it was far from full. So, it seemed a little weird when a woman sat down right next to Beatrix, when there were than enough fully empty rows of seats.

This woman, middle aged, slightly overweight, large horn rimmed glasses, dark brown frizzled hair, obnoxious clothing and a purse the size of Texas, plopped right next to the tall blonde. She was one of those people who seemed to take up a lot of room and make a lot of noise no matter what she was doing.

She began rummaging through her purse, looking for who knows what. Finally, she found what she was looking for after a good two minutes of loud digging. Popping a few sticks of gum in her mouth, she began chewing furiously...her earrings and numerous bracelets clanging away.

She was also one of those people who felt the need to talk to strangers, without provocation. "Gum honey?" She offered Beatrix; sticking the gum packet nearly in her face. The woman's voice was nasal and heavily accented in the upper New York style. "You look like you could use some dear...all pale and willowy that you are..." As this was happening, the plane began taxiing in preparation for take off.

Beatrix slowly tilted her head to the woman beside her and then to the extended stick of gum. Her stomach rolled over and she shook her head fiercely. "No thank you," she muttered quietly. The plane was empty and yet Beatrix had to get stuck with one of those 'annoying but trying to be nice' people. She turned back to her muffin. The muffin was turning into crumbs in the tinfoil packaging from her pervious finger poking at it. The muffin was no less appealing than the gum. So, she not-so-neatly repackaged the item and stuffed it in her bag which she sat at her feet.

Her attention turned to stare at the window and from there she used the tactic of staring at one thing to help calm her stomach as the plane began to take off.

It took the woman sitting next to Beatrix, all of two minutes to get into a full blown conversation with her...well, more like...she was talking and Beatrix was pretending to listen.

"...so, that's how I lost five hundred Paso's! Have you ever been to the Gulf of Mexico? Oh my goodness...it's beautiful!" She patted Beatrix's forearm in excitement, "...you see my son in law, he's a lawyer...he and his wife, my daughter of course...they rent out a small getaway every summer...and they invited me this time...," she woman smacked away on her gum, "...and I have to tell you honey….it's all it's cracked up to be...and

I tell ya, if I was twenty years younger..." She continued on and on like this as they took off and leveled out...mouth yapping, jewelry clanging, fingernails flailing in the air.

A few minutes after the seat belt sign had been turned off; a stewardess came by to take drink orders. She paused at Beatrix and the other woman's row.

"I'll have a V8," the loud woman spoke up before she was even asked what she wanted, "And two bags of peanuts...you people are far too stingy, if I-"

"What can I get you ma'am," the calm and professional stewardess cut the other woman off, addressing Beatrix, "Are you alright ma'am?" She added after a moment of looking at the pale blonde.

"No," Beatrix abruptly replied. In a matter of seconds like a snake springing from the grasses, she had unbuckled her seatbelt, sprung out of the chair, performed a rather surprising leap over the obnoxious woman blocking her path, moved past the stewardess, and shot down the aisle to the restroom.

Thank God, no one was using the facilities and Beatrix went in and locked the door. Inside the tall blonde did something she never thought she would. A foul taste began to form in her mouth and she vomited…on an air plane. Not a gondola, an air plane, an air plane that she had been on countless, millions of times in her life and she never ever got sick from flying. Never.

But she was sick, very sick and vomiting ones brains out in a small cramped porter-potty spoke volumes.

When the pretty blonde had suddenly bolted up the aisle towards the small restroom, both the stewardess and the annoying woman stared after her...along with a number of passengers.

It was pretty obvious now what the blonde had been pale about.

"Happens all the time," the woman who'd been sitting next to Beatrix blurted out, as if she somehow worked on the plane and was an expert at such things.

The stewardess glared at the woman and said nothing in return, looking somewhat concerned. She swiftly walked up the aisle and halted at the locked restroom door.

"Ma'am? Can we get you anything?" She said kindly but loud enough to be heard over the faint sounds of one being rather sick that were emitting from behind the door. There was little that could be done, but it was her job to make sure people were as comfortable as possible. People got sick on planes fairly often and she was reasonably well versed in the matter of sickness.

"Tell her to lie on her back!" She loud woman called up the aisle.

The stewardess glared. That was the most ridiculous thing she'd heard all morning. She turned back to the closed restroom door, feeling rather sorry for the young woman. Not only was she sick, but she was stuck sitting next to an obnoxious cow.

"I'm fine," Beatrix called over the loud swoosh of the toilet flushing. No, she wasn't fine; she was far, far from fine. She unsteadily rose to her feet and turned on the faucet, letting the water run, but instead of washing out her mouth, she slipped down to the cheap tiled flooring of the porter-potty, her back up against the wall, legs hugged tight to her chest, bent her head, and yelled. She didn't scream, she wanted to, but that'd draw more attention than she already had.

The deadliest woman in the world was crying on the floor of an airplane restroom. She was sick, not a flu-bug sick but something else. Beatrix had to put two and two together and when she had she broke down. It hadn't been the take out food from last night, she knew that now. She had a head ache yesterday, she had been lacking an appetite and occasional mood swings, she had been tired for the past few weeks, and she was way more then a month late on her cycle. Conclusion; she was pregnant.

She could still blame the take out because Bill ordered the take out, but then again she could still blame Bill…because Bill got her pregnant…Oh god, Bill…This time she yelled out with more anguish and further tears. Crying like a scared little girl wasn't going to help her situation but subconsciously it really was helping.

The stewardess moved away from the door with a flinch. It was hard to hear over the water, but the woman inside sounded...upset...then again, maybe it was just the water….but she'd swore she'd heard a cry of what almost could be called anguish. Most of the rest of the plane had gone back to sleeping, reading or zoning out. The annoying woman was still watching the stewardess, her large body twisted around to peer at the situation. Thankfully, she'd remained silent for a few seconds.

Leaning against the door once again, the kindly stewardess spoke up,

"Ma'am...," her voice was gentle, "...ma'am? Can I get you anything? Do you need assistance?" All she could hear from behind the door was the running water and below that...a frightened silence.

Silence in this instance was a good thing because silence meant that Beatrix was calming down; if calm could be a fitting word. She had gotten off the floor and almost literally put her head under the faucet. Her head was tilted enough so the cool liquid glided over her clammy facial features and she took in a few sips to distinguish the foul taste on her tongue. Once through, she dabbed the water droplets with a paper towel and hung on to the sink for a few moments.

She couldn't step outside of the restroom without being relatively put together.

Beatrix suddenly stifled a laugh at herself. Okay, so she could be pregnant. She most likely was pregnant, and denying it was only going to make her throw up again, and she was having a shitty time swallowing the truth to begin with. But, she wasn't sure, she could not be pregnant, she could be jumping to conclusions and getting herself worked up over nothing. She had to pull herself together. She put on a hard façade that didn't do much for her still green and clammy appearance and stepped out of the restroom.

The stewardess looked at her with the utmost concern. Beatrix's lips parted as if she wanted to ask if they happened to carry home pregnancy tests on the airplane but instead she softly muttered, "Could I have a ginger ale, please?"

The stewardess offered Beatrix a gentle smile, "Yes, of course...I'll get one for you right away." She turned away to get the drink, but quickly turned back to the tall blonde, "Let me reseat you as well...more space might be good for you." In other words, getting her away from that obnoxious woman.

The stewardess sat Beatrix a few rows in front of her former seat and left to get her a ginger ale. When she passed by Beatrix's prior seat mate, she informed the woman that she had reseated the young lady because it was best she sit alone in her current state...which certainly held some truth to it. The larger woman, nodded congenially, "Oh yes, of course...poor thing needs some space...poor, poor thing..." She continued to mumble to herself in-between chomps of gum...apparently unable to completely cease talking.

A minute or two later, the stewardess set a cup of ginger ale, along with the halfway empty can on the tray in front of Beatrix. She gave the blonde a reassuring look, "If you need anything at all...just press that button," she indicated the large call button on the ceiling, next to the lighting and air flow controls. "Please, don't hesitate to use that." She smiled once more and then left Beatrix, moving onto her other many tasks.

Beatrix almost wished the stewardess hadn't left, because if she didn't leave, than Beatrix wouldn't have been left alone to think. She didn't want to think but there was no stopping a speeding train.

It's said that when one is faced with a life changing situation they go through phases. Beatrix was smack in the distressful and angst phase. Unfortunately this half consisted of a great deal of negative thoughts. What if she really was pregnant? That would fuck up everything and not literally, she'd already did that. She hadn't planned to get pregnant and deep down she didn't think she could. Well, she knew she could, but she didn't think Bill could. Ah, but that was stupid on her part, and negligent, but she had been fucking and during those fucks she wasn't exactly thinking she had to play it safe.

This then brought her back to Bill. She cared about Bill…she loved Bill…she fucked Bill and now there was a high probability she was carrying his baby. That mere thought alone scared the shit out of her. Bill wasn't a father. Bill was a murdering bastard.

The tall sickly distraught blonde hit her head hard against the back of the seat. She wasn't trying to knock herself out, but the impact numbed her head and she soon fell into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

A young woman wearing a blue apron and a nametag that read "Jaclyn", stood looking rather bored behind her check stand, chewing idly on her light pink painted fingernail. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sloppy pony tail, freckles standing out under the harsh florescent lighting. She'd been zoning out, staring at the black and white security camera by her register, but for all she knew...somebody could have stolen just about anything...she wasn't paying much attention.

That was until a tall, very pretty blonde woman came strolling in. Nobody came into the Quick E Mart at 7am and bought a pregnancy test, not even in L.A...until now that this.

Jaclyn gave the tall blonde a long look as she approached the counter with the rectangular box, her young face still set in an expression of teenage boredom. Although, she was pretty intrigued...she still wasn't about to go and be all fucking interested in some lady's knocked up ass.

She pulled herself up into a slightly less crouched position and pulled the pregnancy test over the scanner. She glanced at the register display, "That's 16.47 with tax," she droned, dull blue eyes focused on the blonde woman. "This is a good test," Jaclyn piped up suddenly as the woman was retrieving her cash, "My friend Marissa got knocked up by this real asshole gang banger dick...and she used this test...she was fucked alright….and this thing told her so..." She wasn't sure why she'd talked to the woman, she never talked to customers...she hated customers...they were all a bunch of stupid sheep. But, there was something about the blonde that made her want to share that bit of 'enlightening' information.

Beatrix put a crisp twenty on the counter and watched somewhat stoically as the young teenage cashier counted out the change. The tall blonde was feeling noticeably better after getting off the plane. She wasn't as pale or green or sickly looking but that didn't mean she still didn't feel like shit on the inside. Her emotions were running on full swing, but she wasn't a trained killer for nothing. She was able to pull off that stoic and calm assed façade the whole way to the Quick E Mart and she still had it.

Jaclyn seemed like a well mannered kid and Beatrix felt obliged to be pleasant, or at least those maternal instincts kicked in. She put on a forced tight smile and replied lightly, "I wasn't knocked up by one of those…" A spark went off in those void blue eyes. "But, thanks for the tip."

* * *

"Fuck," Beatrix profusely swore. Then those blue eyes slowly and methodically stared down at the strip clenched in her fingers. The blue strip. Blue meant pregnant. She was pregnant! And in that moment of sheer shock, all previous feelings of being distressed or even close to angst were gone. She was going to be a mother!

She was swept over with a feeling euphoria and she walked out of the bathroom clinging to her blue strip and the box as if it were the baby itself. She was pregnant. This was what she'd always wanted, and now realizing it, she held no regrets or doubts only pure bliss. She was going to have a little baby boy or girl. A baby that was half her own and half Bill's.

Beatrix stopped in the middle of the hotel room and gaped. This was Bill's baby too and he had the right to know. He had the right to be just as happy as she was. She dashed to the bed side table and picked up the receiver. She dialed quick and effectively, her heart pounding in anticipation. The phone rang….rang….rang a third time…a forth…fifth…The door bell rang? Her brows furrowed in sudden curiosity and minor caution. She hung up the phone and with her blue strip and home pregnancy box in hand she went to answer the door.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm Karen Kim, I'm the hospitality manager of the hotel. I have a welcome gift from the management."

"Oh, that's nice…Um…" Dammit, she dropped her blue strip. "…Could you just leave it by the door…? ..."

Bill had been performing the same morning routine for nearly every morning for the past fifteen years or so. It only changed if he was traveling or there were more important or tantalizing reasons to skip it.

Now, whoever said routines were always good...?

This morning, his morning routine, and consequently the missing of Beatrix's phone call, would forever shape the remainder of his life...and in turn, shape the end of it. The events that would follow that morning were, like a line of toppling dominos, a series of fate driven consequences that had been set in motion the second that Bill had set his dark gaze on Beatrix over five years ago.

But that reality had not yet reached Bill.

Completely unaware that he was now the father of Beatrix's unborn child, Bill sat meditating in the middle of his Oriental courtyard. It was past sunrise, but he'd felt like sitting there longer than usual. The morning was clear and utterly still.

Cross legged and straight backed, wearing a black silk Mandarin collared shirt and loose black pants, bare footed, hair loosely falling past his shoulders, he sat unmoving. While, appearing quite stoic, if one who knew him well were to look at him, they'd know that Bill was a happy man. There was just the slightest upturn of his mouth, the softening of his normally hard features. This was Bill's new look...his recent look. He wasn't going to have this look for very much longer. It was about time he return to the scowl and glare that he knew and portrayed so well. Unknowingly, he was enjoying some of the last moments of that other, softer Bill...a side of him that would only be brought out again in him by his own child.

Inside his hacienda, a hundred feet away or so, sitting on the nightstand next to his bed, his cell phone rang five times. It didn't forward to his voicemail...that took six rings; it simply stopped ringing...or in the case of the receiving end, stopped playing that silly monotonic version of The Eagles "One of These Nights."

All Bill heard from his cross-legged vantage point out in the courtyard was the soft chirping of morning birds. His thoughts were equally as pleasant as the soundtrack around him. His mental wanderings drifted to Beatrix of course, amongst everything else. He reflected at length on the day before...that had been one hell of a day...a day to remember. But, he realized that any day he spent with Beatrix was a day to remember. It would seem he'd have quite sometime to remember those days in the years to come.

He thought briefly of skipping his work out and just going inside. But, he resisted the temptation, besides, it was remarkably nice outside. Standing up slowly, he made a slow walk around the courtyard to stretch his legs, bare feet padding on the cobblestone, hair blowing in the soft breeze. Then, setting himself up with enough room...Bill began the Tai Chi Chuan long form, Chen-style...his preferred style of the soft martial art form. When he did this, he tended to mentally melt away into an almost blank state...but, before he did, he had a few fleeting thoughts of Beatrix and the anticipation of seeing, his woman, his lover, that very evening.

She would no doubt have an interesting story or two to tell him.

* * *

"Congratulations." And that was that. In the midst of the hotel room, staring at the door with the hole blasted through it, was Beatrix. She finally snapped, letting the cool metal in her hands drop on to the bed, she made a mad crawling dash across the shaggy rug and retrieved her blue strip. She then moved to the back corner of the room and sat there in a fetal position.

That disheveled woman with the labored breathing was Beatrix Kiddo aka Black Mamba of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad…or that is what she had been. Facing Karen Kim had been one of the most frightening experiences of her life because she hadn't been a killer, not in that moment, she was a mother scared for the safety of her unborn child. And if she remained Black Mamba, her child would always be in danger. She couldn't live like that. Her child didn't deserve to live like that.

She had to make a choice, right then, in that very hotel room, a choice that would change her life for better or for worse. It wasn't about Bill…or was it? Well, Bill had a lot to do with her daunting choice. If she went back home she'd have to face Bill, she'd have to tell him it was his. Minutes before she had no problem trying to get a hold of Bill and telling him the good news but now, after having a gun pointed at her head, her thoughts turned down a different road. If Bill knew he'd claim the baby and she didn't want that. Her baby deserved that clean slate that Beatrix longed for. A clean slate with no blood stains to speak of, and in order to gain that clean slate she had to drop out.

It wasn't about Bill anymore and it certainly wasn't about herself, it was about 'their' child and the right choice. She had to choose; Bill or the baby.

Beatrix chose the baby.

She wasn't running away, per say, well she was running away from Bill, that much was true. She was running away from one life, to pick up another that she was going to make work. So a good two hours later the mother-to-be packed up her small duffle bag, left the hotel and went home. It wasn't exactly her 'home' but it was home enough; El Paso, Texas.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**From Mel (Moneypenny1979)**

Hey everyone! Thank you so much for actually taking the time to read this entire story!

This story took nearly eight months to write. It began really as a free form role play between Jess and I. Jess was a Bea fanatic, and I was a Bill fanatic...it just made sense we each write a character and see what happened. Little did I know just how well this would all work out. Jess and I did not actually know each other until we started writing this story, and I'm still amazed at how well our writing meshed together and how well we worked together as a writing team; coming up with ideas and agreeing on the direction of this story along the way. Honestly, I was a little apprehensive when Jess first suggested we put the story on this site. I wasn't sure if people would enjoy reading it as much as Jess and I enjoyed writing it. But, now I'm so glad that she suggested it and I'm really happy that you guys were just as involved as we were. I cringe when I go back and read the first few chapters of this story. But, I think as the things went on, Jess and I began to get a much better grasp on the characters and how we wanted to handle this fic. In the end, I'm pleasantly surprised at the results of all those months of scheming, chatting and writing.

This story really is, in my opinion, a Bill/Bea fic. But, I hope that we did a decent job at re-creating a cast of other characters around them. Writing Vernita and Elle was always a challenge. But Elle brought me great joy in her truly vile sadistic moments of humor and Vernita, with so little to go on from the movies, was an interesting character to develop a little more.

Bill, of course, was my main focus. He certainly isn't the easiest character to understand, but I did the best I could to convey the sort of character that I felt he was. I didn't want to over idealize him, but on the other hand, I wanted, through his portrayal, to show some things from "his side" along the way. I have always been fascinated by the antihero that easily borders on the villain, and so he was very fun for me to write. I will also make a shameless little plug for my KB fanfic "The Life And Times Of A Murdering Bastard" (on this site) If you liked how I wrote Bill in this fic, you might be interested. Likewise, Jess will be writing Beatrix for my story, when I get to that point...which at the pace I'm going may take awhile. :P Also, a number of characters and references from this story will show up in that one, including the other Vipers, Paco, Pai Mei, Hanzo, Estiban, and so on. But enough of my plug.

I will admit, it was so easy to get a little too emotionally involved with this story...almost to a scary point. There were moments when I was genuinely frustrated, intrigued and pissed off at Beatrix. And the worst came when Jess and I knew we had to end this story. We were both really sad to see it end. But, we knew it had to. In the end, I'm just glad that we are not the only ones that felt that way. Like many of you have said, I think watching the movies now is very different. And I think that is pretty cool.

Some thank yous. I'd like to thank all of you guys who reviewed this story, specifically those who stuck with us all along (you know who are are, we know who you are :D). Your kind words were very encouraging to us and we went over single review.. I'd also like to thank Q&U for coming up with such a cool world, a great story and a wonderful cast of characters. Jess and I (neither of us whom wish to be sued) very much enjoyed delving further into these characters. I'd like to give a special thanks to Mr. David Carradine, whom I have adored ever since I was a kid, and who's portrayal of Bill fueled me to want to explore his character more. I even made a few subtle references to David's autobiography "Endless Highway" in this story (the peyote trip, the sun god Apollo, etc.), which I highly recommend reading if you are a fan of his.

And most of all, I'd like to thank my friend Jess, for writing this story with me, for putting up with my moments of weirdness, and for her writing the most amazingly perfect Bea to my Bill.

Again, writing this story has been a fun and surprisingly really rewarding experience; I learned some new things and I gained a great friend. I hope I can look back on this story in a few years and still enjoy reading it. Maybe you guys can too.

Take care, and remember...even sadistic murdering bastards need love every now and again :D

**From Jess bloodysatisfactn**

Hello everyone!

Well, Mel basically said everything for me. huggles Mel I feel exactly the same way about everything she said…let's see…

I first met Mel through a KB role play group I started because after seeing volume two I was obsessed. I've been role playing for well over seven years, my skills as a writer have drastically improved since, and I'd like to think role playing had a lot to do with it. Anyway, I love role playing characters from my favorite movies and when KB became one of my favorite movies I became intrigued by Beatrix Kiddo. Her character seemed amazingly intriguing, not your typical 'kick-ass-female-fighter' and I decided to try her out.

You all must know, as I've told Mel a thousand times, I am the COMPLETE opposite of Beatrix. I would tend to play your classic 'damsel in distress' characters; shy, overly nice, generous, let's her man fight for her…yup…And as well all know Beatrix is far from shy, she isn't all that nice or generous, and she sure as hell doesn't need 'her man' fighting for her. So, she was a challenge. But, as you all seem to think, and I haven't heard any complaints everyone liked my Bea. I didn't base her off of anything or anyone…basically used what I learned from the volumes and the original script…oh…and watching Uma throughout the film and watching other various QT movies. I didn't have a good autobiography to go off of like Mel…but my main tactic was looking at the situation...and thinking…what would I do….and then altering that to what I wouldn't do.

Throughout the story I tried to show her 'maturing' of sorts, how she became so jaded, hard assed, why she acted certain ways, things to help bring her into what we know her as in the volumes. In conclusion by writing Beatrix and fleshing her out completely and trying to understand her because I think she confuses herself sometimes…I've taken Beatrix as my alter-ego.

As for the other characters; Budd and O-Ren. Budd was easy actually. Even after what he did to Bea; the rock salt, burying her a live…being a moron…I always kinda liked him and didn't think he was all that terrible. Thus, in the earlier years of the DiVAs Budd was decent guy. As for O-Ren…I was never happy she turned out. I tried hard. But, luckily she was in Tokyo a lot…doing all of her top secret 'taking over the underground' plans…so it worked.

This is defiantly a Bill/Bea fanfic but I also like to think it is a pre-Kill Bill. Mel and I really wanted to explain to ourselves mostly why things happened the way they did. How'd Elle and Bea work up such a rivalry? And yes, the arguments between them, when writing were hilarious. What was Beatrix's deal with the truth? This was really hard to figure out…I think we figured it out…good enough. And of course, the relationship between Bill and Beatrix. This we felt was the most important and worked very hard on. I don't think it'd turn out as good as it did if Mel and I didn't mesh so well. We talked everything out. Oh, and Bill pissed me off countless times. Bastard….

And yes, sometimes we became frustrated with both of them. Especially when we tried moving their relationship up a level.

As for you, the readers, thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed this fan fic as much as we enjoyed writing. It truly means a lot to get those great reviews!

Well, that's it….it's over….

…………….

Okay, Mel and I, after finishing this fic were in denial. So, we thought real hard about how we could keep on writing and hence we figured it out! We left off in this fic with Bea having left Bill…which eventually leads into Two Pines…BUT!

What happened within those three months Bea was gone? Remember when Bill said 'I mourned you for three months. And in the third month of mourning you, I track you down…" Well, what happened during those months of mourning? How did he track her down? How did Beatrix meet Tommy? And what did happen in the chapel at Two Pines? You can find out in…our next KB fan fic. Name yet to figure out…Be prepared for large amounts of character angst and all out character abuse….not our faults. It does in a way take off where we left off in KB: Prequel V2 but it can also be read as a separate story. We've enjoyed writing this other fic…we hope you do too…

And again, thank you!

**NOTE:** Our next fan fic can be found under the name Kill Bill: Three Months.


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